The Junction Point Part One
by EmmettMcFly55
Summary: No less than two versions of Marty III McFly and Sarah Brown travel with Doc's mind-reading machine back to 1885... and live through the problems the characters faced back then. Story written for NaNoWriMo 2008. Finished, now!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF. I do own the script I've written for this story... or did I write this story for that script? Anyway. **

**Author's Note: **My NaNoWriMo story. This tale is based on a BTTF IV script I wrote. Basically, it's this: Griff 2060 goes back to 2015 and gives his younger self the almanac. In 2045-A, committed Marty Sr and Marty III with Griff for a stepfather build a DeLorean along with Sarah (Verne's daughter). They go back to 2015, and then Marty Sr and Sarah end up trapped in 1925 and in a Part III way, Marty III rescues them from getting shot and takes along Doc, Clara and Jules (still in 1925) on the way. They have now been living for a year in the new restored 2046.

Anyway, here we go...

_**The Junction Point Part One**_

**1: Prologue**

_September 7, 2046  
05:30 PM PDT_

Martin Seamus McFly III, Hell Valley version, felt nervous. Here he was, about to get sucked up in another one of Doc's projects. As much as he'd come to like the scientist over the past year, he knew the inventor had his weird quirks… especially with his inventions. He gulped, remembering the 'train plan' a year ago… or should that be 121 years ago? Anyway. If that plan had gone wrong (which was a reasonable chance) they'd end up dead.

_Then again, if we hadn't done it, we would've been trapped in the past, _Marty III thought. He mentally kicked himself for not watching out much enough, back when the local version of his grandfather sent him back to 1925. If only Local Marty Senior hadn't filled up the gas tank, the DeLorean wouldn't have exploded. Damaged, yes. The birds that he flew into upon arrival would've still attacked the hover-conversion equipment and would've still caused the car to drop the 100 feet, but at least the time machine would've been repairable once he got out. Alternate Marty Senior, trapped in the Twenties, would've been able to repair it and bring them all back to the future.

But that hadn't happened. The time machine had exploded, and Marty III groaned as he thought of their quest – finding the only one that could help, the 1925 version of Old Doc. Then the mad plan had followed, with Grandpa Marty pretending to be the 'ghost' of Clint Eastwood in order to rescue Sarah… and sending Old Buford Tannen to jail again. He wondered if that eventually disrupted the events that happened in 1935, with Old Buford stealing the time machine and all… apparently not, as the universe still seemed to be intact. But then again, you could never know…

Marty then looked up, as his Local counterpart entered the room, with both version of Sarah. "Hi" Local Marty said. "You were sent by Doc too?" As Alternate Marty nodded, the local sighed. "I wonder what he's got for us this time. Remember with April Fool's day, how he managed to make himself invisible? The guy's gaining a sense of humour." He smirked. "Well, I think so. I didn't even know him that well before you guys arrived eleven months ago."

"To be honest with you, neither did I" Alternate Marty said. "I just knew him as the local nutcase who'd disappeared sixty years in the past. I _certainly _didn't realise that time travel could've been involved!"

"Well, the general public wasn't supposed to know that, either" Doc said, entering the room together with Alternate Marty Senior. He was wearing a lab coat as traditional, and had his mind-reading helmet on his head. Marty smirked, as he saw the thing looked just as his grandfather described it looking in 1955. Doc certainly did keep his inventions around for a long time… even though he hadn't had the ability to take care of them, for about sixty years. "Well anyway, shall we go start with the project?"

"What kind of project have you made, Doctor Brown?" Local Marty asked, curious. "Haven't you been working on that mind reader since 1955? It looks just as Local Grandpa Marty described it. Have you managed to make progress with it – with help of 2040s equipment?"

"That's correct" Doc confirmed. "With Griff Tannen's DeLorean we've travelled to all kind of times to get nice pieces for the mind-reader. Only, we discovered a little glitch in our plans, that turned out to have positive outcomes. I made my device a mind transportation machine now."

"Wha-what?" Local Sarah stammered. "Are you telling me that this machine can transport our minds… to somewhere else, where our body isn't?"

"Correction – to somewhen else" Doc said. "As you can see, I attached a miniature version of the flux capacitor to it, as well as a miniature circuit display. I have installed a timer, that goes off after you press this button. After exactly one minute, your minds will be transported to the time that is in the time circuits, and the exact place there, too. You can't return from there, so I installed a homing device. All you have to do is also input the exact time you want to leave. Since I haven't managed to let it work fourth-dimensionally, yet, I have installed for it to return at the exact time you would've been if you hadn't mind travelled. For example, if you four leave at 6PM, and stay 12 hours in another time… from 7AM to 7PM for example… you will be able to return at 6AM, no earlier, on the following morning."

"Ho, wait, let's hold one thing straight" Alternate Sarah protested. "Grandpa, who said _we _are going to test this device? For all we know, we could be electrocuted! It really sounds terrifying to be in a device like that… can't you use the dogs? Huey and Lewis?"

"Oh, no" Alternate Marty Senior said. "The other me would flip if he'd knew we were using his dogs. They're just puppies, and I don't think they're as able to survive as humans, if something would go wrong. Besides, they can't tell how they have been, in the past. For all we know, the experiment failed."

"Wouldn't Grandpa worry about his own grandchildren, then?" Local Marty stated. "I'm not going to leave 2046 in such a… weird device! I may not be too experienced with time travel, but it doesn't sound good to me, from what Alternate Marty told me!"

"Well, this is, to an extent, safer than time travel" Doc argued. "You see, you won't be there for real. You're still in 2046. However you will be able to see each other's bodies floating around, they won't really be there – and nobody can see you, hear you, or even touch you. You can easily fly through rocks and things like that, since you aren't there. And you can chose where to go yourself – any time in future or past, as you won't be able to create time paradoxes. After all, you're not there, and will return at the said time that we've input into the mind transportation machine."

Alternate Marty started to smile. "Anytime we want, huh?" he asked.

"Correct" Doc said. "From January 1, 9999 BC at 12:00 AM to December 31, 9999 AD at 11:59 PM. However the latter isn't that wise, as the time circuits display might malfunction if you use that many digits, as it isn't possible in the circuits-system. I yet have to install something like that with the DeLorean and the train, too – then I'll take care of the mind transportation machine, as well."

"You're the Doc, Doc."

"Right." Doc stepped forward. "So, who wants to go?"

Local Marty exchanged uneasy looks with Local Sarah. "If it's really safe, maybe we can try it. I'd always loved to see the Old West, when my girlfriend's parents were born. How about… September 7th? That was a huge date in your history, if I'm correct, and I think it would be a nice date to visit with the mind transpo…transpa…"

"Transportation machine" Doc helped.

"Right, right. I think that would be fine." The local turned to Local Sarah, and the alternate versions of himself and his girlfriend. "What about you three? What do you think of 1885 to visit? It sounds like a nice enough place."

"Yeah, 1885 would be fine" Alternate Sarah said. "I'd like to see my father again – for real. I mean, I know that this Verne is also my father, to an extent, but I think that for the younger version of Verne Brown, it would even be more true, as that's prior to the point the two timelines split. This is in 1905, and didn't the timelines split up in… what, 1910? That was when Dad travelled to 2020 to settle there. Griff's first big win wasn't until 2023, though…"

"But he received the almanac from his older self on October 21, 2015" Alternate Marty reminded his girlfriend. Then smiling with nostalgia, he added: "And then we took it away from him, again, and ended up ending the horrible Griff-world."

"On the same date we got sent back to 1925" Alternate Sarah shivered, staring at Alternate Marty Senior. "Seriously, Marty, I don't know why your Gramps was so happy there, especially after his experiences in 1955. Well, I guess that he learnt to respect the beauty of the past later on. Maybe I'll do that, one day, as well."

"Travelling to 1885 would be a step" Doc said. "Now, who's against, and who's agreeing with the trip? Who agrees, first?"

The inventor smiled, as everyone raised his hand. "Okay, then it will go on." He then remembered something. "Oh, guys… you can't stay any longer than 5 hours. This is just the prototype… maybe you can always live through the rest of the day some other time. For now, though, you guys will have to settle with 5 hours."

"Sounds all right with me" Local Marty said, sighing. "I wished we could've stayed longer, but well… anyway, let's arrive at six AM. That is the same time Jules and Verne arrived, from 1905. Dr. Brown should be in the saloon at that time, Buford Tannen at his camp, asleep, and Grandpa Marty at the campfire." He didn't add the 'Local' to his line as he realized that at this point, their histories matched. "We can leave at 11… most of the action was over by eight-forty-five, anyway."

"All right" Doc said, grabbing some wires and the cup he'd used with Marty in 1955. Carefully, he placed one on each of the mind travellers. "Well, hold on to your seats, everybody!" he exclaimed, as he was done. "Let's see… Destination Time, September 7, 1885, 06:00 AM. Departure time: September 7, 1885, 11:00 AM. Destination Location for the TFE… Shonash Ravine, Hill Valley, California."

"TFE?" Local Sarah asked.

"Temporal Field Extender" Doc explained. "It's to transport to places as well as to times. Comes in handy, as our lab isn't at Shonash Ravine… Eastwood, now." He smiled. "I still remember my reaction, just after Marty Senior had left. Here my best friend was gone, I was breathing from the excitement, and suddenly I'm confronted with two teenagers who looked just like me and wanted my help in 'getting back to the future'! No wonder I fainted from shock!" Recovering from his nostalgia, he pressed the button. "All right, you two should leave in about… fifty-seven seconds, fifty-six, fifty-five, fifty-four…"

"This is heavy" Alternate Marty breathed, twisting in his seat. "I can't believe I'm going to 1885. 1925 was far enough in the past for me."

"Aw, come on" Doc laughed. "It's five hours – and you'll be too distracted by watching everyone to get homesick."

"Forty-five" Marty Senior reported.

"That's true" Local Marty stated. "You shouldn't exaggerate that much, Alternate Marty. We aren't going to be there for that long. Actually, now my nervousness has calmed down a bit, I'm pretty excited. I haven't time travelled as much as you have."

"You wouldn't want to, either" Alternate Marty said back.

"Thirty seconds…"

Local Sarah suddenly realized something. "Hey, where in Shonash Ravine are we going to arrive? On the bottom? And how are we going to get out?"

"The bottom, yes" Doc said. "And since you're not really there, you'll be able to fly out. All normal human restrictions, like gravity, are taken away from you as you're not really there. You'll still be able to speak to each other, though, and watch, hear, feel things. The thing is, though, no one else can hear you, feel you, see you, let alone interact with you. In that point, it's completely safe."

"Twenty seconds…"

"I just wish that Local Grandpa Marty wasn't so strict" Local Marty said. "I mean, I was first nervous, then enthusiastic about going on a time trip… but now, I'm nervous again. I mean, travelling to another time like that… and on such a weird way…"

"Like time travel is really that normal" Alternate Sarah said. "You'll be fine."

"Ten!" Marty Senior shouted. "Nine, eight, seven, six, five…"

Alternate Marty felt his heart beating ten times it's normal rate. Suddenly, he started to have second thoughts.

"Four, three, two…"

"No!" Alternate Marty weakly called out. Was it him, or was his voice getting fainter with the second?"

"…one, take off!"

Alternate Marty gasped, as he felt himself shaking in the chair. Suddenly, he felt himself getting a small electric shock. As he'd barely recovered from that, everything went black for his eyes. Then, he felt himself being shaken again, as he was mind-warped backwards in time. After just two seconds, he felt a loud thud, and found himself lying at the bottom of Shonash Ravine, 1885.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Just as yesterday, I still don't own BTTF. **

**Author's Note: **New chapter. A bit shorter than yesterday's one, which was really long for a 'short chapter' format. This one is at least under the 2000 words. Please read and review. Don't suggest - I got an outline made up, already.

Any questions, just review or PM me, and I'll answer you.

The Author. (That's me)

**2: Chapter One**

_September 7, 1885  
06:00 AM PDT_

Alternate Marty felt a really weird feeling come over him. As he blinked, he saw that he was lying at the bottom of a ravine – and that Sarah, Local Marty and Local Sarah were lying right next to him. Right at that moment, he saw a huge flash in the dark sky – and heard a loud sonic boom. Crawling to his feet, he looked up, as another sonic boom appeared. This one was even louder than the first. With the third sonic boom, a bright flash of light appeared, and a DeLorean flew through it. The Marty's and the Sarah's watched in amazement, as the car flew down, and smoothly landed at the bottom of Shonash Ravine. Marty guessed this had to be Jules and Verne.

His guess was confirmed, as the gull-wing door on the left opened, and a young man with white hair stepped out, and looked around. Just then, the door on the right also opened, and a 17-year-old teenager with dark blonde hair stepped out. Marty felt himself nervous. As he realized that neither of them could see him, he still felt uncomfortable. Luckily, Jules and Verne didn't appear to notice him. The machine really worked well.

"I can't believe this!" Verne exclaimed, looking around. "We really are in 1885! I guess the ravine was still Shonash Ravine, at this point in time?"

"I believe it was, yes" Jules nodded. "Clint Eastwood… Marty… won't 'fall in' until later today." He then checked his watch, pressed a few buttons, and looked at the sky. "Let's see, sunrise should be in around forty to forty-one minutes. You go uptown, track down someone who knows where Buford's camp is. Someday today…"

"Old Buford will show up, I know I know" Verne sighed. "I just hope we'll get back home soon. My internal clock is a bit out of synch. And all we wanted to do was buy a little Christmas present for Dad in 1935!"

"Don't complain on me, Verne!" Jules said. "It wasn't my fault that we ran into the younger version of Dad, while we were there. Also, you were the one who took so long to discover all the stores, allowing us to meet Father, allowing the time machine to be unguarded for so long. I know the future is exciting, brother, but next time, please keep it to our necessary things."

"Well, let's go, now" Verne said. "Every second Dad's dead in that horrible world hurts me like hell. Correction – that world _is _hell."

Jules frowned slightly at the last line, then dug into the DeLorean's back. "All right" he said, pulling out a walkie-talkie. "Take this, then we'll be able to contact. We'll proceed according to schedule. I'll wait here, and study the newspapers for further information."

"You mean you'll do nothing" Verne stated.

"I'll also recheck the time circuits, and thank you very much for the compliment" Jules said, sarcastically. "A track-down Last Time Departed display could come in handy. Maybe one day the time machine gets stolen by someone who isn't as stupid as Old Buford to leave the Last Time Departed on his real departure… not that we noticed, but anyway… but first travels to the last date seen on the display before returning the time machine to the future. In this case, that would've been December 23, 1905, 10:53 PM." He stared at the display. "Maybe with the right tools, Dad and I could build that… once this mess is all over."

"Anyway" Verne said, taking the walkie-talkie. "I'm off. See you later, bro." He started to climb up the walls of the ravine, sighing with every step he took. The mind travellers watched him amusedly.

"Poor Dad" Local Sarah chuckled. "I guess he'll be having a hard time to get the history book away from Buford. Maybe even harder, than it was for your Grandpa's, to steal the sports almanac away from Biff. After all, Buford is much rougher in that kind of things."

"I wonder where Gramps is" Alternate Marty said. "I mean, he should be at the campfire. Doc should be at the saloon, telling stories." He flew up, higher and higher, along the wall of Shonash Ravine. "I guess we all have to follow Verne, to see where he's leading us. I am kind of curious to see what Hill Valley is like by now. The first time I saw it was in 1925, and that's 40 years from now. I think that by then, it resembles 1955 more than 1885."

"Dad told me that the Courthouse was still in construction by 1885" Alternate Sarah said. "Well, I was just five when he told me that – but I still remember his tales about the past. He really wanted to fix what Griff had done to the world, until he was shot in 2034. And just a little over a decade later, I ended up taking over the mission, along with Alternate Marty here, and his Grandpa."

"Well, that sure sounds interesting, then" Local Marty said, seeing that Verne had finally reached the top of the ravine. "Let's fly into Hill Valley, now." As the teenagers started to hover above the road, they wondered where Verne was leading them.

oooooooo

Verne Brown felt nervous, as he entered the city limits of Hill Valley by passing the station. However he'd grown up in this kind of town for 17 years, he wondered how the city would be a full three years before he was even born. He smiled, as he realized that today was the big day for Dad, as he would meet Clara again. Of course, today was also the day that he last really saw Marty. He felt himself almost crying, as he knew how good friends his father and the teenager were.

As he then walked through the dirt roads, he looked around with amazement. There was a banner in the air saying "Hill Valley Festival: Saturday September 5th 1885". He recognized the old Palace Saloon from his youth, as well as the Marshall's Office. He then also realized that his parents were currently not together – as Clara had broken up with Emmett the night before. He would better not interfere with the train accident, or else he might possibly erase himself from existence. Anything that would bring his father directly back to 1985 would most likely erase him anyway. Gulping, he realized how much of a hard task he had, here in the past.

As he entered the saloon, he found himself feeling another wave of nostalgia. He remembered going there for the first time, back in 1900. He wasn't allowed to drink any alcoholic drinks, yet, as the legal age in the future for that was 21. He did always think of the interior as kind of creepy, though. Now he was 17, though, his father wouldn't be able to control what he did, as he didn't know Verne yet. Smiling, he went to sit at the bar, next to a man with a hat on his head and a full glass of whiskey in his hand. Verne wondered why the man didn't just drink it up.

"Hey, blacksmith!" one of the people at the tables then screamed, surprising Verne. "Why don't you tell us more about that future of yours?"

The man snorted. "I don't care for my future anymore" he said in a strangely familiar voice. "After all, I lost it just this night. After Clara dumped me, I don't _have _a future anymore – so what could I tell you about?"

Verne felt really shocked. This man was Emmett Lathrop Brown, his father! He gasped with amazement, turned his head the other way, and nervously started to move away. He certainly didn't want to cause a paradox…"

"Hey, stranger!" Verne looked up at Chester, the old bartender. "Whadda ya want? We're not here for people that don't order anything. So, why don't you tell me – what do you want to have? In here, we serve sarsaparilla, whiskey, and other strong stuff. If you want water, though, like that Eastwood fellow last week – you'd better go out to drink of the horse through. In here, we serve whiskey!"

"Don't insult my friend" Doc protested. "Marty just drunk from the horse through because all you serve isn't really for kids like he is." He stared a long time at his whiskey glass, before looking up again. "You wouldn't want a young boy like him to get an alcohol disorder, would you? He's only 17… and in the future, the legal drinking age will be twenty-one in the United States."

That caused another burst of laughter to arrive. "What kind of a stupid drinking age is that!" one of the men called out. "Those future idiots you're talking about must be crazy. Drinking's good for a man. It makes you stronger. So just drink it up, blacksmith!"

Doc took another stare at his glass, and raised it up. He was about to taste it, as one of the other men distracted him again. "So, what's it, smithy?" he asked. "Why don't you just drink it! That's better than the horse's through outside, huh?"

Doc frowned, setting the glass down again. "I'll drink whatever I want" he said. Verne thought this was a good moment to get away, and sneakily headed away from the bar. "Why are you so judgemental and harsh to me and Clint? I lost the love of my life – nothing's left for me."

Verne watched his father from a distance, as he headed out of the saloon. He felt sorry for his father, as the older man really seemed to be love-struck. As much as he liked his mother, he felt that she'd been really hard to his father. Then again, when somebody told you _time travel _was true, and that he was from a full hundred years in the future, would you believe it? Want to, yes, but actually believe it?

The seventeen-year-old shook his head, and headed out of the door. Getting food here was useless – and besides, it wasn't that wise either. According to the Courthouse clock, it was 6:43am, after all… time to go find Buford Tannen. The boy shivered, thinking what life would be if Buford actually was to _keep _the history book…

Trying to breath easier, he started heading towards the east. He had no clue where Tannen could really be, but this was his best guess. Dad had always told him that Buford arrived from that side, according to Marty, and knowing his father, his guess was almost always accurate. Humming a tune, he started heading out of Hill Valley, California.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Still don't own BTTF. **

**Author's Note: **Really fast update. Then again, considering I wrote 2/3rd of the second chapter yesterday... anyway, please review. And enjoy the update, as with school starting and all, I might not get the next one up so soon.

**3: Chapter Two**

_September 7, 1885  
06:45 AM PDT_

Old Buford Tannen groaned, as he entered the new time period. With every passing minute, flying the car got harder. Of course, the almost-collision with the train over the Eastwood Ravine Bridge hadn't helped, either. Still, the old man figured that it wouldn't have been really easy otherwise.

As he stabilized the car, he took a look at the time circuits. He'd apparently departed 1985 at "DEC 23 1985 11:04 AM" and now he was at "SEP 07 1885 06:45 AM". Just in case he wouldn't have enough energy later, he set his Destination Time: December 23, 1935, 12:46 PM. It was one minute after his departure, and he hoped that those Brown buttheads wouldn't have noticed the absence of the car by then, and naïvely fly it back to 1905.

_And when they do that, it'll be _my _1905, _Buford thought, then suddenly feeling a lot of pain coming from his back. _Aw! At least, if I _do_ manage to complete my mission here. _

As he flew the DeLorean over to the local lake, he descended carefully. If he remembered right, his younger self and his friends were no more than half a mile from here camped. That shouldn't be too far to walk. After getting himself and his bag out of the car and somehow managing to close the door, he started hobbling the 800 metres.

As he started thinking of the book, his heart started beating faster. He felt happy, as he realized that with help of the history info, his younger self could bail himself free and start a huge empire, as well as get back at the McFly's and the Browns. He had always held his crush on Clara Clayton, the blacksmith's wife, and with him being so rich, he hoped that once he'd gotten home, marrying Clara would be a wish come true.

He groaned, wincing from the pain. The first thing he'd do at home would be using his money to get a healing for his leg. Or would he already have done that in the future? He didn't know and didn't honestly care either.

As he looked around, he realized that he'd walked just a few metres, yet. Refreshing his energy by taking a deep breath, he hobbled faster. He really had to reach his younger self. His age was starting to catch up with him, now, but determination not to lead such an unhappy life again kept him alive. Continuing to hobble, he walked near the lake, anxiously waiting for himself to arrive at the camp. Opening his eyes as wide as he could, he could faintly make out the shadow of a fire, a few hundred yards away. Nervously, he started to head over there. If only… he… would listen to himself… Then again, that was a business he'd deal with on the time being. Happily smiling, he continued hobbling towards the fire.

oooooooo

Clara Clayton blinked, as she opened her eyes and looked at the clock. It was six-fifty… why wasn't she getting up earlier? After all, she did have a school to teach today. If mind served her correct, there was going to be some kind of introduction. Then, suddenly, she noticed remains of tears on her face, and she remembered.

Yesterday evening the love of her life, Emmett Lathrop Brown, had broken up with her. Not only that, but he'd told her really cruel nonsense while at it, about having to go back to 1985, and inventing a time machine. As much as she loved Jules Verne's tales, Clara knew that it was an un-respectful lie. Most likely, Emmett didn't really like Jules Verne either. He'd just looked up that quote of the moon to flirt with her.

As she really felt like staying in bed the entire day, Clara realized she still had to come out. But not go uptown, and just teach class. After all the cruelty that Emmett had done to her, she couldn't do that, not in a million years. Crying, she sat up in bed. Why did this happen to her? Why did all men just think that she was a naïve woman? She'd really loved Emmett those two days, she really had. Why hadn't she realized that he was lying to her all the time? Why…

The schoolteacher almost spit to the ground in disgust, as she realized that she'd actually kissed that betrayer. Every day she'd be reminded of her short but intense love with the man for who she'd actually been nothing but a toy for the time being. She had to get out of Hill Valley, and soon. The town had lied to her. They'd invited her a warm welcome but instead they'd made her being enticed by this…

Clara frowned. After all the scientist… blacksmith, that most likely was a lie too… had done to her, she still couldn't completely hate him. After all, she'd loved Emmett for two full days, she'd had a wonderful evening with him, and last but not least, he'd saved her life. If not for him, she wouldn't have been alive by now. Even if he'd done that because he saw a nice-looking lady and wanted to flirt with her, not really love her, she still couldn't completely disgust him as her mind told her to. He'd been so nice to her… so romantic… so shy yet handsome…

Shaking her head at the untrue thoughts, Clara stepped out of her bed, and headed over to the main room in the cabin. There weren't that much things she'd brought along, and some of them had fallen in the ravine anyway. Luckily, she'd already picked up her telescope the day before, at Emmett's shop, so she wouldn't have to face him anymore. Now all she had to do was pack the stuff that was unpacked, tie it up with the rest of the things, rent a buckboard from Mr. Statler and go the soonest she could to the centre of Hill Valley. There, she'd take a train to wherever the track lead the farthest. Afterwards, she could always write her cancel note to the school. First of all, she wanted to get out of town. After all, there was nothing left for her in lie-town Hill Valley, not anymore.

Sighing, Clara headed over to her small wardrobe, and chose a pink dress to wear for the day, while packing the rest of her clothes in a box. It was 'pack-your-stuff-and-leave-as-soon-as-you-can' day, now.

oooooooo

Marty McFly sighed, as he started to wake up. He'd been asleep for the entire night, and lying on the ground wasn't that easy. His back hurt like hell. If he had known this in the beginning, he'd volunteered to actually sleep in the DeLorean. Anything was better than just here out in the forest. This really was the middle of nowhere, after all. He turned to his pillow…

…only to find no pillow, but his Colt gun. His eyes widened and his heart raced, as he realized what this meant. He'd slept on his gun for the entire night! He could've killed himself! "Oh man" he groaned, as reality sank in. "Did I sleep…" He didn't know whether to laugh, to cry, to scream or to do nothing. This was really heavy.

As he sat up, he groaned again, as he realized today was the big day, the one on which they were going to push up the train to 88. "What time is it, Doc?" he asked, looking across to the other side…

…only to find his friend wasn't there.

Marty's eyes widened. "Doc!" he exclaimed, stumbling to his feet. Looking around, he saw the scientist wasn't there. _He didn't… he didn't go to town, did he? Man, Buford Tannen could've killed him! _Instinctively, he stared at the photograph he'd brought along from 1955. And he didn't like what he saw.

Mostly, the picture was still blank. But above the ever-remaining date, which was actually today now, a new name was starting to appear, and it wasn't Doc's. Marty's heart beat four times as fast as he read 'Clint Eastwood' was starting to appear. _Holy shit, I'm going to get killed! _He looked around, seeing Doc's horse wasn't there anymore. _I have to find Doc, hijack that stupid train, and get the hell out of here before I'm dead meat! _

Heading over to _his _horse, he suddenly heard the clocks in the DeLorean a few yards away chime. Counting the chimes, Marty was horrified as he noticed there were seven. It was actually 7am, now, and the showdown was according to Buford going to happen at 8, just like the train leaving the station. Man, they really cut those things close. He had no more than sixty minutes to find Doc before they'd either get stuck in 1885 or shot by Mad Dog Tannen.

Swiftly grabbing his gun and bullets, he jumped on his horse. The animal made a few nervous noises, then calmed down so Marty could ride away with it. The teenager, happy having control over the animal, headed over to the first place he could think Doc could possibly be.

Clara Clayton's cabin.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I haven't bought BTTF in the time since I wrote the last chapter of this story. **

**Author's Note: **4 down, 29 to go! I hope everyone likes the new chapter I wrote. Please review.

**4: Chapter Three**

_September 7, 1885  
07:05 AM PDT_

Buford Tannen groaned, as he felt himself being kicked in the left side. He grabbed his gun, wondering whoever could be doing this to him. Most likely one of his gang. He really ought to teach them a lesson someday. Opening his eyes, he blinked if what he was seeing was right.

A totally unfamiliar man who looked to be almost ninety was doing the kicking, with a cane no less. Buford admired the cane for a second, before he climbed up. Whoever this man was, he'd better stop the kicking right now or he'd get a slap on the head, and hard. He still had to try out his guns, after all…

"I see you're up" the man said in a taunting voice. "Now that you're awake, I can talk to you. There's a little matter we need to talk about."

"If it's death, you picked the right person to talk to, old man" Buford sneered. "I got some guns here that can help you to die really unpleasant. So if you don't get away from here right now, I'll hunt you down and shoot you down like a duck."

The man than slapped on Buford's head with the cane. "It's dog, you idiot!" he called out. "Shoot you down like a dog! You sound like such a duded-up egg-sucking gutter-trash when you say it wrong!"

"All right then dog!" Buford said, getting up completely now. "And now I'm doing just that! You thought the wrong thing when you decided to mess with Buford Tannen, you runt!"

"Who are ya calling a runt," the old man returned, "runt!"

"Ya ain't calling me my own saying!" Buford protested. He loaded his gun. "Not that you are soon going to be calling much anymore…"

The older man visibly paled, much to Buford's pleasure. "All right, now calm down" he said. "I just got something I want to talk to you about and no, it's not death. I got a little present for you that'll make you richer than you ever wanted. You want to be wealthy right?"

"Of course I would" Buford returned. "Who wouldn't wanna be?" He chuckled. "You're going to make me wealthy? You're going to make me rich? I already told you runt, you better go away. I don't believe ya, anyway." He smiled as he realized he'd actually said the words in rhyme.

"I still do want you to" the old man said. "I'm telling the truth, and I can show it to you." He held up the bag he was holding, and got out a book, which he gave to Buford. "You see this book? This book tells the future. It tells everything about the history of Hill Valley up until 1930. This book is worth millions of dollars and I'm giving it to you."

"You think I believe that?" Buford asked. "I'm not that dumb, old man. This book is fake." He looked down. It did say '1850-1930', didn't it? He couldn't read that well, but he kind of figured it said that. Still, it was certainly not true.

"You really think so?" the old man taunted back. "Let's show you something, then." He sat down and started flipping the pages. Buford rolled his eyes, waiting for whatever the old man was going to show him. Anyway, it certainly wasn't going to be true, really.

oooooooo

Marty McFly breathed hard, as he'd reached Clara Clayton's cabin. He'd been driving for about twenty minutes, and felt exhausted. Still, he had to find Doc. Rushing, he got off his horse, and ran up to the house, which Clara was just leaving. "Clara!" he exclaimed. "Clara!"

As Clara saw him, she unexpectedly changed her look into one of anger, stopping Marty dead in his tracks. "What are _you _doing here?" she snapped. "Are you coming to have a look if your friend's plan succeeded? I could've known Emmett was setting me up all the time! But yesterday evening…" Marty saw faint tears coming out of her eyes.

The teenager headed back to his horse, not daring to say anything more, as Clara walked away from the house. What could've happened? Obviously, Doc had met Clara again – and this time, they hadn't parted on good terms. But what could've happened? There was just one man that could tell Marty.

Confused and exhausted, Marty jumped on his horse again, and rode the animal away from the school cabin, towards downtown Hill Valley, which housed option 2 of possible locations Doc could be: the blacksmith shop.

oooooooo

Verne watched in disbelief, as he'd reached Buford's camp. He saw that Old Buford was already there, and that the older man was explaining some things about the history book to his younger self. Realizing he shouldn't be seen by Old Buford, he ducked behind a bush, waiting.

As he just sat there, he worried what all would happen to him and Jules, if they didn't manage to get the book away from Buford. That certainly wouldn't be good. He picked a pair of binoculars out of his pocket, and started watching the two versions of the same person.

oooooooo

Alternate Marty watched in amusement, as he saw Old Buford arguing with the younger one. As much as he hated both of them – and anyone who was an ancestor or descendant of the Tannen family – it was still fun to watch. He wondered if Young Biff's conversation with Old Biff had gone this way, too. Unfortunately, his grandfather couldn't enjoy it too much – as he had to deal with getting the almanac back, and not being noticed. They could enjoy it, though.

"Look, runt" Old Buford said, as he'd stopped flipping pages. "As you can see, it says right here that you robbed the Pine City Stage yesterday. This newspaper is from today – how can they know what you did yesterday, here in Hill Valley, while this paper won't even be printed until 7:30 today? This paper's from the future. The next paper is, too."

"Clint Eastwood Defeats Buford 'Mad Dog' Tannen?" Buford read aloud. "What is that for a stupid headline, it don't make sense! I am going to defeat that yellow belly, and he's not going to win of me! What kind of a paper is this?" He skipped some articles. "Eastwood Boy To Fall In Shonash Ravine! What the hell is that punk doing there in the first place!" He snickered. "This is complete nonsense and you know it!"

"I can't believe Old Buford showed Young Buford the info about him going to be beaten today" Local Marty said. "If that would've gone wrong, and Buford would've believed in the paper… well, I'd say that I wouldn't be here right now."

"You aren't" Local Sarah pointed out. "We only think we're here. We're actually still on the early evening of September 7, 2046. We can't touch anything or say anything to the locals, you know? We're not really here."

"Very funny, good one Sarah" Local Marty sarcastically said. "You know what I mean. I just meant that Grandpa would be killed, so he couldn't marry Grandma Jennifer and have kids with her. You understood that, didn't you? So don't act that stupid."

"You can't take a little humour from my counterpart" Alternate Sarah teased, playfully. "I guess I'm happy that I am dating the other you, and not you."

"Hey" Local Marty said, laughing. "Don't you go say those things to me, now!"

"Shut up, both of you" Alternate Marty then said. "And listen to the Buford's conversing. As much as I hate them, I am really having a lot of fun. They are so much like each other, as they're the same person – yet so different by being separated by 50 years in time. Y'know, they might as well start a comedy show together."

"Were the Griff's the same?" Local Sarah asked, curiously.

"Can't really tell" Alternate Marty admitted. "I was trying to listen, but from where I was situated – in a tree – I couldn't hear much. And Old Griff left soon, anyway. That was when Young Griff walked away, throwing the almanac in the trash can. And I moved forward, trying to grab it."

"Which you couldn't," Alternate Sarah said, sarcastically, "so you decided to fall out of the tree and hit your head on the only stone in a wide range."

"It wasn't on purpose!" Alternate Marty exclaimed. "Anyway… let's watch."

Down below, Old Buford had found out that Young Buford wasn't listening to him. "Now, listen," he said, trying to find a way to convince his younger self. "Why don't you take a look at it. If at the end of the day, you're still free, and the newspaper of today isn't exactly the same as the one in the book, well, then you can throw this book away, along with the additional info I put in it. If it is, though, just keep it. You really can be rich with this book. Trust me, Buford – you won't be disappointed."

"All right, all right!" Young Buford shouted. "I'll take a look at it. Now, go!"

"Fine" Old Buford said, handing the bag with book in it to his younger self. "See you in about… fifty years."

As the older man left, Young Buford snorted. "Bet you'll probably not even be alive by then, you old bag" he sneered. Then, he headed over to his horse, put the bag in the sack next to it, and headed back to the sleeping place.

When Buford looked around, then, he noticed that everyone was still asleep. _And _this _is how we're going to beat Eastwood? _he sarcastically thought, remembering the paper in the book. He started kicking the gang in their backs. "Wake up!" he shouted. "I got me a runt to kill!"

"It's still early boss!" one of the members protested. "It's still early!" another one agreed.

Buford stared in front of himself. "I'm hungry" he muttered.

"Blood-thirsty, you mean" Alternate Marty sneered. "I can't believe how evil he is. He's almost worse than Griff… well, nobody can be worse than Griff. He's still bad. I pity the versions of Jules and Verne that had to live with him for a step dad."

"Yeah" Alternate Sarah nodded. "They probably don't exist, anymore… but you're right, I pity them, too." With that, they started floating after Buford's gang, towards Central Hill Valley.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF Part III, nor the other movies not mentioned here. **

**Author's Note: **Sorry that it took so long. Here's chapter 5. Please enjoy. It's one of these longer ones again.

**5: Chapter Four**

_September 7, 1885  
07:40 AM PDT_

Doctor Brown felt himself very unhappy, as he was sitting in the Palace Saloon. Nothing was left for him, anymore. He had been up the entire night, and now the sun was just rising. He turned to the locals.

"Yes, in the future, there won't be any animals in such close proximity to Hill Valley anymore" he said. "But in the future, we don't need horses. We have horseless carriages called automobiles." He stared at the window, not being able to see the time at the clock because the window was in front of it. He didn't really care for the time, though.

As one of the old timer's started laughing, he felt miserable. Of course, they weren't laughing at him – but it certainly felt that way. He should've just thrown himself into Shonash Ravine earlier that night.

"If everybody's got one of these automo-what's-it's," the man said, "does anybody walk or run anymore?"

Doc smiled faintly. "Of course they run" he said. "But for recreation. For fun." That caused another outburst of laughter from the old men. "Run for fun! Ha! Ha! What the hell kind of fun is that?"

The inventor stared at his glass, his only companion in the world. _I lost everything. The love of my life. She was one in a googolplex and I'll never get her back. She was one in the amount of numbers the mathematical number defined as 'Pi' has. _He sighed, and stared at his glass again. Maybe, when dawn had really grown and these men had all left, he should jump in the ravine. Living in 1885 had seemed a youth dream come true. It had become hell.

oooooooo

Marty McFly felt his heart beating faster than it ever had before, as he raced his horse towards Central Hill Valley. As much as he trusted Doc, he knew the scientist could be slightly mad in his actions, sometimes, and today might as well have been the day, with Clara breaking up with him and all. He just hoped that Doc would hold a sane perspective, on the whole thing.

Racing his horse towards the shop, he 'parked' by getting off in the jump and ran the fast he could into the shop. One look was enough to prove Doc wasn't there. "Doc!" he exclaimed, turning around and running onto the street. "Doc!" He looked around frantically. _Please, please don't let Buford have caught him… _

Then, he looked at the saloon. _Hm… where would _I _go if Jennifer left me? _He stared at the building. Maybe it wasn't like Doc, but that was 1985, not 1885, and normally Doc didn't date women that he loved so much as he obviously did with Clara. _I really should've told Doc more to take Clara with us. Or maybe I should've told Clara when we met at her cabin… wouldn't have worked, she was furious anyway and wouldn't even have walked one step with me. _He sighed, running to the saloon. If Doc wasn't there, he was going to have a seriously bad state of mind.

oooooooo

Doc sighed, as he just stared in front of him at the bar. In the back, he could hear one of the old man asking: "How much has he had?" _Oh great. Think I'm drunk, as well. Not that I care, though… _

"None" Chester said, smiling. "That's his first one and he hasn't touched it, yet. He just likes to hold it." That caused another loud burst of laughter. Why not… the sixty-five-year-old was used by other people making fun of him, by now.

Suddenly, Doc heard a loud sound behind him, of the doors opening. "Doc!" a voice called to him, as footsteps came closer. "Doc!" As he turned, he saw his friend, Marty. "What are you doing?" the teenager asked, looking around.

Doc didn't know whether to laugh or cry. _Isn't that obvious, kid? _"I've lost her Marty" he said, shaking his head. "There's nothing left for me here."

"All right," Marty said, "so that's why you've gotta come back with me."

Doc raised his right eyebrow. "Where!" he said, not caring less.

Marty had a hopeless expression on his face. "Back to the future!"

Doc thought about that for a few moments, then nodded, as he was filled with a great revealation. Even if Clara didn't love him anymore, Marty was his friend, and they had been for ten years. He had to come back with him. "Right" he said, louder than he'd ever been in the past eight hours. He set his glass onto the table. "Let's get going!"

"Great" muttered Marty, none too hard.

"Gentlemen excuse me," Doc said, firmly, "but my friend and I have to catch a train." _Let's see, it shouldn't be later than 7:45… I can check that on the clock, outside… if Marty hasn't got a 'lost look' on his face, yet, we could still catch the vehicle. _

The first man raised his glass. "Here's to you blacksmith!"

"And to the future" another man said.

"Amen" the third one said.

"Amen!" Doc agreed, raising his glass. He figured he should go along with this Old West tradition one last time before leaving his favourite era forever.

"Emmett no!" Chester called out, panicking. Doc just ignored him, drank his glass dry in one sip, and set it down again. _Sorry, Chester, but I really have to go along with my will. If I'd done what other people wanted before, well, I wouldn't have become an inventor. Now, let's get… _

A weird feeling of dizziness crept up to him. Doc felt himself unable to use some of his senses anymore. Right at that moment, a realisation crept up to him. _Wait a second… that glass wasn't the usual, it was whiskey… I recognize that stuff out of a thousand. I was going to drink it earlier in the night because I wanted to get away from it all, even for a few hours… but now… _He panicked, too, realizing why Chester had been so desperate. _I have to get moving, I have to get… _

_Away… _

_From… _

_Here… _

Before he could make any move, the whiskey caught up to his brain, and wiped all his thoughts away from him. In just two seconds, Doctor Emmett Brown fell to the nearest table, passed out.

oooooooo

Alternate Marty felt the excitement come over him, as he arrived just before Buford and his gang had. Doctor Brown was knocked out, already, and Marty Senior was tending to him.

"Doc!" Marty called out. "Doc! Doc! Come on Doc, wake up buddy." He turned to Chester. "How much did he have?"

"Just one" Chester said, staring at Doc.

"Just one?" Marty said in absolute disbelief.

"There's a fellow that can't hold his liquor" Chester nodded.

"Gimme some coffee," Marty Senior said. "Black."

"Joey, coffee!" Chester called out. The time travellers watched on, as Marty continued to tend to his friend – then looked up, as the clock chimed. It was actually 7:45 AM! In a quarter, the train would leave, and Buford and the gang would arrive!

oooooooo

Buford Tannen felt happy, as he raced through the fields. Today, he would finally wipe that Eastwood runt out of his life forever. As for that history book, well, he could see later. He really thought it was fake, though.

"Ya!" he exclaimed. "Ya!" he felt his horse speeding up underneath him. Now if it only would continue to go this way, he'd be in Hill Valley by ten minutes from now.

oooooooo

Clara Clayton felt herself miserable, as she was standing at the station, holding her bag. She felt herself not quite ready to leave this beautiful town, but she wanted to forget it all, and this was the only way.

"Ma'am" the clerk than said.

"How far does the 8 o'clock train go?" Clara asked.

"San Fransisco is the end of the line" the clerk said.

That sounded about right. "I'll take a one way ticket" Clara said, feeling sad to leave Hill Valley behind forever. Still, she had to.

oooooooo

Marty McFly felt incredibly confused, as Doc wasn't waking up by the coffee. Why couldn't his friend help along one time…

"You wanna sober him up in a hurry, son," the bartender said, "you're gonna have to use something a lot stronger than coffee."

At this point, Marty Senior felt about ready to try anything. "Yeah, what do you suggest?"

The bartender got up, as he smiled evilly. "Joey!" he called out. "Let's make some wake-up juice."

Marty watched, as a lot of ingredients were set ready, and mixed through each other. "In about ten minutes," the bartender said, "he's going to be as sober as a priest on Sunday."

The teenager looked at the clock, and saw that it was 7:50 already. Ten minutes addition made the feared 8am. "Ten minutes!" he exclaimed. "Why do we have to cut these things so damn close…"

"Here" the bartender said, as he handed Marty the glass of wake-up juice. "Stick this clothespin on his nose." Marty did so. "And when he opens up his mouth, go ahead and pour it down his throat. Oh, and stand back."

Marty frowned concerned, but did it anyway, as he was actually more concerned about the time by now. _Sorry Doc… _

As careful as he could, Marty poured down the wake-up juice. Then, suddenly, he saw Doc's eyes open, and his friend screamed. _He's awake! _Marty thought. The inventor jumped up, and ran out through the doors like a madman. Marty ran after his friend, only to find the scientist lying with his head in a horse through. Pulling him up, along with the bartender, Marty noticed in surprise that Doc still had that unconscious look on his face. "He's still out!" Marty exclaimed, not believing his eyes.

"Oh, that," the bartender said, as they started dragging Doc back to the saloon. "That was just a reflex action. It's gonna take a few more minutes for the stuff to really clear up his head."

"Perfect" Marty groaned, as they dragged Doc inside.

oooooooo

Clara stood at the station, as she saw the train roll in. She waited, as she realized that this was going to be the last time she would ever see Hill Valley, California again. Sadness crept over her… a good thing she'd think to bring a few tissues along.

oooooooo

Seamus McFly felt himself nervous, as he entered the saloon, along with a lot of other people. He'd told Maggie he had 'something to do' in town, and wondered what she would do if she would find out he was going to the saloon. Then again, he wasn't going to do what most people would do there – he was going to try to persuade Clint Eastwood one last time not to fight Tannen. He was a brave fellow, but he shouldn't just give up his life like this. Seamus had grown fond of Clint, and would feel sad if the young boy was just killed.

As he looked around, he saw that Clint Eastwood and Chester the bartender were standing over an unconscious Emmett Brown. He felt shocked, and wondered what could've happened. According to the courthouse clock when he'd stepped in, it was still nine minutes up until the gunfight.

"Come on, Doc," Clint said, as Seamus headed over to them. He wondered why Clint addressed the blacksmith with 'doc'. "Come on, wake up buddy. Come on, wake up Doc, c'mon, c'mon."

"Seamus!" Chester called out, obviously surprised. "Wouldn't expect to see you here this morning." The farmer nodded – he usually hated gunfights, and realized why Chester thought that.

"Aye" he told the man. "But something inside me told me I should be 'ere." As he thought back of what had gone through his head all those hours when lying in bed that night, he added: "As if my future had something to do with it." With that, he walked away, unaware of Clint giving him a strange look.

oooooooo

Marty wondered at Seamus' words for a second, then the bartender spoke. "He'll come around in a minute" the man informed him. Marty decided to ignore it and go back to the task. "C'mon Doc, c'mon" he told his friend. "Let's wake up buddy, come on."

And then, when he thought that they were finally making progress… hoof beats came clear into hearing range. A few horses raced into town, and stopped in front of the saloon. Tannen had arrived.


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Past, Present or Future. **

**Author's Note: **Another long one. Sorry, it's just a lot to fit into one chapter.

**6: Chapter Five**

_September 7, 1885  
07:55 AM PDT_

Buford Tannen felt confident of himself, as he rode into town. Now he was going to teach that no-good runt a lesson he'd never forget. Smiling faintly, he jumped off his horse and made the others take care of the horses. Walking to the saloon, he looked through the window. Not able to see much, but guessing his opponent was in there – who wasn't? – he decided to call him out.

"Are you in there, Eastwood!" he called out. "It's eight o'clock, and I'm calling you out." He waited a few seconds, and then he saw the runt coming over to the window.

"It's not eight o'clock yet!" Clint yelled. Buford rolled his eyes about the yellow's punctuality. So what if it _was _seven-fifty-five? Did it matter? "It is by my watch!" Buford shouted back. "Let's settle this for once and for all, runt!" Knowing Eastwood's weakness, he added: "Or ain't you got the guts." Stepping back, he waited for Clint's answer.

It came after a few seconds and Clint looking at some stupid photograph. "Listen" Clint said. "I'm not really feeling up to this today." He spread his arms. "So I'm going to have to forfeit."

"Forfeit" Buford repeated. He'd never heard that word before. "Forfeit!" he shouted, now in his usual tone, and turned to his gang members. "What's that mean?"

One of the gang members thought a little, then provided the answer. "Um… it means you win without a fight" he explained.

Now, this was the most ridiculous thing Tannen had ever heard. "Without shootin'?" he repeated, incredulously. "He can't do that." Turned to Clint, he shouted: "Hey you can't do that! You know what I think? I think you're nothin' but a gutless yellow turd. And I'm giving ya to the count of ten to come out here and prove I'm wrong. One!"

oooooooo

"Poor Grandpa Marty" Local Marty said. "He really has to make the hardest decision of his life. To go by his beliefs – and get killed, or to break with his 'chicken' problem forever and get out of the fight unharmed."

"You think that Buford will let him go, even if he does end up allowing the gang to call him chicken?" Alternate Marty pointed out. "Now, let's wait and see. We all know the outcome, but it's good to watch Grandpa finally learning his lesson."

oooooooo

"Doc!" Marty exclaimed, shaking his friend through, anxiously. "C'mon, sober up, buddy, let's go." In the back, he heard Buford's "Two!" reach him. _Please Doc… why does Murphy's Law never allow us a break? Really, why not? _He sighed, and continued to pull on his friend's jacket. They had to get out of here, and fast.

"You better get out there son" one of the old men said. "I got 20 dollars go betting on ya so you can't let me down." _Yeah, right. Like I care for _that_… _The teenager sighed, and stared hard at his friend. Why didn't Doc just wake up…

"Three" Buford shouted, right as one of the other men spoke. "I got 30 dollars go betting against you so don't let _me _down!" Marty rolled his eyes at the 'support' as Buford's "Four" sounded. He had to get out of here in a hurry. What time was it, now? 7:56? 7:57? Was Doc really that punctual with waking up, too?

"You better face up to it son," the third man said, "because if you don't go out there…"

"What?" Marty exclaimed, just as Buford's "Five" sounded. "What? What if I don't go out there?" He felt unsure what to do. What reason, after all, could there be to go out of the saloon and face Tannen to his death…

"You're a coward!" one of the men called out.

"Six!"

"And you'll be branded a coward for the rest of your days!" one added.

"Everybody," one of the men said, "everywhere, will say Clint Eastwood is the biggest yellow belly in the west."

The teenager gulped. That didn't sound good. But then again, how much better was getting killed?

oooooooo

Buford Tannen felt confused and ashamed of himself, as he realized that he didn't know what came after six. Was it ten? Or fifteen? Or two hundred twenty-five? He couldn't remember. Embarrassed, he turned towards his gang.

Luckily, they got the hint. One of his friends, the smartest, held up seven fingers. Smiling, Buford turned back towards Eastwood and the mission. "Seven!" he shouted, loud and well aware of the impression he was making here.

oooooooo

Marty felt nervous, as a gun was slid towards him. What should he do? Go out, or not? Normally, he would've asked Doc, but the scientist was right at this moment still passed out. He'd have to deal with this task on his own. And Buford's "Eight" made the dilemma he was facing even harder.

"I already got a gun" Marty muttered, as he passed the gun back.

"Nine!" Buford shouted, from outside.

The teenager looked around, wondering what he should do. Then, another loud cry came from Buford. "Ten!" Marty remained silent. "You hear me runt? I said that's 10 you gutless yellow pie slinger!"

The teenager thought deeply. _If I go out now, I'll be shot. My life will end early. No Marty Junior, no Marlene, no marriage to Jennifer. My parents will live lonely without me. Jennifer will have lost her boyfriend. And Doc… _

Marty sighed. _Doc told me I was his only real friend. He won't have a life anymore. I was so selfish yesterday evening. I told Doc to come with me, just because I wanted to have my best friend back. If I hadn't done that, me and Doc would've parted on sad terms, and I would be hijacking the train now – alone. Doc would be happy with Clara. Thanks to me, though, his future's ruined. I have to go back with Doc. _

The seventeen-year-old then looked at the face of his ancestor. Seamus' brother was stabbed with a bowie knife. Marty thought back of that night, and of Seamus' words. _Never considered the future, poor Martin. God rest his soul. _

_I hope you're considering the future Mr. Eastwood. _

_I think about it all the time. _

Marty stared at Seamus, and felt the farmer's words into his heart. Seamus McFly was asking, begging him not to do it. If the teen did go out, he wouldn't even have glory. He'd get shot as one of Tannen's victims… one that stood for his beliefs. That tombstone could be his. Even if he did survive this confrontation, the tombstone would continue to haunt him and with this problem, his life wasn't secure.

Was it worth it?

No.

Marty stared out of the window, and looked at Buford. It was a Tannen. A _Tannen _told him what to do. He was listening to Buford Tannen now. He'd almost laugh on it. Doc's words were right. You shouldn't care what anybody else says. If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything, no matter what anybody said about it.

"He's an asshole!"

The 17-year-old saw Seamus' approval, and felt like going through with this. "I don't care what Tannen says! I don't care what anybody else says, either!" He looked up in relief. Then, suddenly, he heard some glass behind him. He looked – and saw a dazed Dr. Emmett Brown standing on two feet again. "Whoa!" the inventor called out, trying to steady himself.

"Doc!" Marty exclaimed, rushing over to his friend's side. "Doc, Doc, you OK?"

"I think so" the inventor groaned. "Whoa, what a headache."

Marty looked outside, at Tannen, and his mood darkened again. He turned to the bartender. "Listen, you got a back door in this place?" he asked.

The bartender nodded. "Yeah, it's in the back."

"Come on, Doc," Marty instructed, "let's go." He started to walk over to the back with his friend. From outside, he could just hear Buford's words call after him: "Are you coming out here, runt, or do I have to go in there after ya?" He ignored Tannen, and soon, they were exiting through the back door.

"The thing I really miss here is Tylenol" Doc commented. Marty had to chuckle faintly at that, as they made their way into freedom.

"Hey!" Marty stopped short in his tracks, as he noticed one of Buford's gang had noticed them. He dived away into the building next to the saloon, hitting an old stove. Then, he realized Doc was not with him. He crawled to his feet, and saw that Doc was still behind the barrel.

"Freeze blacksmith!" one of the gang members called out, as Doc rose his hands. Marty groaned, as he realized that it wasn't over, yet.

oooooooo

Clara waited, as the train started to move away. She still couldn't believe how Emmett lied to her. Still, it was true. Turning her head away from the town, she waited as the steam locomotive departed Hill Valley forever.

"Yes, sir, that poor fella last night had the biggest case of broken heart I have ever seen!" a man behind her suddenly spoke. "And when he said that he didn't know how he could live out the rest of his life knowing how much hurt he'd caused that little girl? Well, I really felt for him. I did. Right here." Clara glanced at the man, who pointed at his heart. _Poor guy. Well, I guess that he might actually have been not honest with his girlfriend, or else she wouldn't have broken up with him. _She snorted. _But if it was the girl's fault – well, then he really is the opposite of Emmett. _She sighed, as she concentrated on the long ride to San Francisco.

oooooooo

Local Marty watched, as Doc was carried up to the centre of the road. He really felt for poor Marty Senior. After all, it wasn't every day you saw your friend getting shot. He wondered what was going through his grandfather's head around now.

"Listen up Eastwood!" Buford shouted. "I intend to shoot somebody today and I'd prefer it to be you. But if you're just too damn yella, I guess it'll just have to be your blacksmith friend."

"Forget about me, Marty," Doc shouted, "and save yourself!" Sarah felt herself glow with pride for her grandfather. Of course, if Marty had done just that, she wouldn't be here right now. Then again, she wasn't really here… or was she? Mind travel was even more confusing than time travel.

"You got one minute to decide!" Buford shouted. "You hear me runt? One minute!" The mind travellers moved towards the shop Marty Senior was in, as they were starting to wonder how the teenager was going to solve this mess. After all, one minute wasn't much to think up a plan that would include saving himself and Doc.

oooooooo

Clara was still sitting in the train, as she listened to the men behind her converse. Then, the speaking took an unexpected twist.

"I never seen a man so broken up over a woman" the first man said. "What'd you say her name was? Cara? Sara?"

"Clara?" the other man suggested.

"Clara!" the first man replied, relieved that he remembered the name, now.

Clara's eyes fell wide open. _No, it can't be, it's just a coincidence… then again, if it isn't, I'll be regretting it forever… _she turned around. "Excuse me" she said to the men.

"Ma'am" the man on the right said.

"But was this man tall," Clara said, continuing, "with great big brown puppy dog eyes and long silvery flowing hair?" She had to know it, she had to…

"You know him" the man on the right said.

That was all the proof she needed. "Emmett" she whispered. If Emmett had really felt that sorry, and did only half the things the men mentioned, then he really was sorry about the lies he'd told her, and he deserved a second chance… She got up, firmly, and pulled the brake rope.

Suddenly, the train stopped moving. Everyone fell over each other, and Clara fell in the arms of the man on the left. She stumbled up again, however, and started heading out of the train, and towards Hill Valley, California.

oooooooo

_When we go back home, I swear, I'll never go on foot again when I can use horses. _

Tired all together, Verne Brown arrived in the city of Hill Valley. He glanced over to the main road, and to his relief, saw the spectacle hadn't began yet. The clock said 7:59. Buford Tannen was in the centre of the road, and had apparently put the history book with bag around it hanging onto his horse. If only he could get there unexpectedly… he groaned, looking around.

As he then realized what was really going on, he came to a conclusion. Buford was about to face Marty in the gunfight, and then, he would be arrested by Strickland's deputy. He smiled faintly, as he realized that this was the chance he could take. As police officer, he could inconspicuously head over to the bag and take the book.

Realizing that he was short of time, he headed over to the nearest clothes shop his memory provided him. Then, guessing he also needed a way to get out of the area without raising attention, he grabbed the walkie-talkie, and called his brother. "Jules! Jules!"

"Heard you, Verne" Jules' voice sounded. "What's the matter?"

"I got a plan to get the book back from Buford" Verne said, rushed, "but I need a quick escape afterwards, or the gang might come after me. They were arrested by the police originally, but maybe this time, they'll come further tracking me down."

"Don't worry sibling" Jules said. "In the back of the DeLorean, I've got the ideal construction for picking you up after quick getaway's like this. Don't worry, Verne – you'll be fine. Over and out."

"Check, Jules" Verne groaned, as he reached the clothes shop. _This is going to get… heavy… _


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own the movies. Any of them. **

**Author's Note: **Shorter this time. I hope you still like it.

**7: Chapter Six**

_September 7, 1885  
08:00 AM PDT_

Doc Brown snorted, as he looked at the gun pointed at him. He couldn't see Buford's watch too well, but he guessed that the time was up, now, which was confirmed by Buford's "Time's up, runt!" He watched, as Tannen raised the gun towards him. _So this is the end. It certainly isn't what I would've expected, but at least Marty got away safe. I don't have Clara – what do I have to lose? _

"Prepare to meet your maker blacksmith" Buford growled. Doc felt scared for a moment, staring at the gun, but firmly put his coat tighter. _If Tannen thinks he can make me scared by this, well, all right. Go ahead. I won't be scared. I'll go into death secure of my sake. Then again – if I end up in heaven, would I end up in heaven in 1885, or 1985? Or is there time in heaven at all? _He sighed. _Ah, well, guess I'll find out. _

"Right here, Tannen!"

Terror flooded through Doc's brain as he realized who was speaking. Marty McFly stepped onto the dirt road, hat and gun on him. _Great Scott… he isn't… he's not… _Doc gulped. _Kid, why didn't you run away when you still had the chance? With Buford Tannen against you, you'll be dead meat before you can fire a single shot… _

Tannen went into position, ignoring Doc, who was held on by the gang members. As he stood right in the road, Buford gestured towards Marty's gun. "Draw!"

A weak, "No!" made Doc lose all belief in Marty's sanity, and even more as his friend dropped the gun belt onto the road. He really, really felt like he was going to faint.

oooooooo

"Look at that" Alternate Sarah gasped. "I guess that Grandpa Brown really is confused now. I would be, too. After all, that gun is, as far as he's concerned, the only form of protection that Marty Senior has. To just throw it away like that… his fate sure seems to be sealed."

"Look at how confused Buford is" Local Marty pointed out. "Grandpa has some explaining to do…"

The explanation came. "I thought we could settle this like men" Marty Senior said, firmly, not keeping his eyes off Buford's gun.

A simple "You thought wrong dude" set Marty's fate for good. Everyone gasped, some to witness the great event in history from the sky and ground and some thinking Marty was really dead from below, as Buford got out his gun, and faster than anyone else fired the trigger. Marty went down, obviously killed.

Alternate Marty stepped back a foot, not realizing that he was still hanging in the sky. "This is heavy" he whispered in complete disbelief. "It is that we know the truth, or else I would have sure believed that Grandpa is dead."

"Tell me about it" Alternate Sarah groaned. "He really must care for Grandpa Emmett, or else he wouldn't do something like this. To actually risk his life… I never expected this from Grandpa Marty, I really never did."

"Well, Doctor Brown and he met in 1975" Local Marty said. "That's ten years it has been for both of them… maybe ten years and eight months for Dr. Brown, now. It's logical that they care for each other."

Down below, Buford walked across the road, drooling and looking sideways at the shocked people. "Ahh, thank ya" he said, egoistically. He walked over to Marty, obviously about to give the 'dead body' another shot, to make sure that it was dead. He was about to fire…

… when his gun was kicked out of his hand. Buford stared at it in disbelief, and then saw the impossible happen. Marty simply rose up from the death! As he gasped, Marty revealed the stove door under his jacket.

Buford hissed in anger, as he tried to attack Marty. Unfortunately, though, Marty held up the stove door – and Tannen broke his hand on it. Marty then detached the door, and hit Buford on the head with it. He watched with evil pleasure, as the outlaw fell down to the ground.

But the fight wasn't over yet. Buford Tannen stumbled to his feet again, and in mad rage, attacked Marty. The teenager, however, managed to punch him sideways – right into a tombstone. This time, it took longer before Buford got up, and after a few moments, Marty gave him the final blow. Buford fell onto a cart filled with manure. The shit piled up high above him.

"Way to go McFly!" Alternate Marty yelled, screaming out of his breath. "You really did it!"

Everyone laughed at Buford Tannen. "That was good" Seamus said.

At that moment, they all heard hoof beats coming closer. As everyone looked up, they saw that Marshall Strickland's deputy had arrived, as well as some of the other 'police' members of 1880s Hill Valley. Everyone felt relieved, as the gang noticed them.

"You know what I think?" one of the gang members said. "I think Buford's going to jail."

"You're right" the other gang member said. They ran off, one of them stumbling over Doc's foot which he reached out just in time. Then, the gang ran away, and Buford was alone.

oooooooo

Buford Tannen felt miserable, as he was lying in a huge pile of manure. He couldn't believe Clint Eastwood had actually beaten him. As he looked across the street, he saw the deputy had caught up to him. This was really bad. He now sure was going to prison. Well, at least he still had his history book, which now had proven his worth…

He then gasped, as he looked at his horse. An officer was there, and he was taking off the bag with the history book! Tannen watched in disbelief, as the officer's face fell in the sunlight for a moment. Taking away lots of age, this was a clone of blacksmith Brown! He gasped, as he realized what was happening. "Get them!" he screamed. "Get that no-good thief that's stealin' my book!" The gang then realized who he meant, and while being chased by the officers themselves, they followed the Brown clone.

"Get him out of that shit" the deputy said, disgustedly. "Get them!" the last was directed towards the officers that were chasing the gang.

Buford then felt the deputy point a rifle towards his head. "Buford Tannen," the man said, "you're under arrest for robbing the Pine City Stage. You got anything to say?"

The outlaw felt himself like throwing up, as he spit out some of the disgusting shit. "I hate manure" he muttered, feeling a little dazed. He just wished that he'd stayed at his camp today. In an hour, he'd been humiliated, and arrested, and had now most likely lost his book forever. This was really bad. He groaned, as he felt himself being pulled out of the manure pile, and dragged away.

oooooooo

Verne Brown ran as fast as he could, as he was being chased by Buford Tannen's gang. Then, he looked around – and saw the gang climbing on a few horses, while pointing their guns at the owners. Realizing that he had to do the same if survive, he ran towards the nearest horse owner.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he called out. "I need to borrow your horse! Really, I do!" He then pushed the man off the horse, and climbed on himself. After a few instabilities, he managed to get the animal riding. He then headed away from Hill Valley Central. He just hoped that Jules' plan to save him was going to be good. He then double-checked his bag, and was relieved to see that it was, indeed, the history book. Now all he had to do was get away from here.

oooooooo

Marty McFly felt exhausted, as he walked over to Doc. He really had managed to beat Tannen, but he'd paid quite the price. Knocking Buford out wasn't easy, but he did think that the outlaw deserved somewhat of a chance to win. Then there also was the fact that shooting Buford could alter history.

"Look!" Doc exclaimed, as he pointed towards the tombstone. Marty immediately realized what he was getting at and got out the photograph of the stone, back in 1955. The tombstone shimmered a little, and then rippled into nothing. The only thing left was grass. "Yes!" Marty and Doc both exclaimed. Their mission was accomplished!

At that moment, the train whistle sounded, reminding them of that other mission. "The train!" Doc exclaimed.

"Can we make it?" Marty asked, worriedly.

Doc thought for a few seconds. "We'll have to cut it off at Coyote Pass" he said. They got onto their horses, only to be stopped by a young boy.

"Hey mister, mister Eastwood!" the boy exclaimed, holding up Marty's gun belt. "Here's your gun mister!"

"Thanks, kid" Marty said, gratefully. He then spotted Seamus. "Seamus!" he exclaimed, throwing the gun towards the farmer who'd probably be able to put more use to it than he would, and it was his ancestor, after all. He happily saw Seamus catching the belt. "Worth 12 dollars, never been used."

"Maybe I'll trade it for a new hat!" Seamus called out.

Marty snickered – typical Seamus. "Right," he called out, while riding off, "and take care of that baby!" It was just an insurance policy to make sure that his ancestor, William, would survive. He saw Doc frown at that, but no matter what.

"I will!" Seamus shouted, after them, as the time travellers rode out of Hill Valley, and onto the race towards the future.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Don't own the movies. **

**Author's Note: **Just a new chapter.

**8: Chapter Seven**

_September 7, 1885  
08:10 AM PDT_

Clara Clayton really was nervous, as she ran up to the centre of Hill Valley. Obviously, the gunfight had just taken place – but where could Emmett be? Knowing one vast place to go, she headed over to the shop. "Emmett!" she called out, opening the rusty old door. "Emmett! Emmett!" Looking around, there was nothing to be seen…

Then, in a corner of her eye, she noticed the 'model railroad' standing there. Heading over to the table, she gasped as she saw everything. There was a train on there, but there was something in front of it, too. A small model of some carriage very unfamiliar to her. It was labelled 'time machine'. "Time machine…"

Nobody that Clara knew would ever go through the trouble of making something this complicated just to fool people. Which meant…

_Oh… he wasn't… he couldn't… he couldn't have been telling the truth, could he? _

Not wanting to take any chances, Clara quickly looked at the model and clearly saw where everything was going. It was the old spur, out of town, that she'd seen upon arrival and that ran off towards the ravine she'd almost fallen in. Realizing what to do, she ran out of the shop, jumped on a horse just standing there – most likely Clint's – and rode off towards the spur.

oooooooo

"Come on Marty!" Doc shouted, as they were chasing the train. He'd just managed to climb on the last carriage, and was now waving out for Marty. He really hoped that his friend would be able to make it. He always thought positively, but now, he felt a little uncertain if Marty would indeed make it to the train on time. Then again, his friend could be trusted – and if Marty thought he could reach the locomotive, Doc wasn't going to doubt that. He just wondered why it was taking his friend so long.

"Argh!" Marty then exclaimed. "Argh!" He sure was having a bad time with it. Doc then reached out. "Ah, gimme ya hand!" he called out. That way, he could be sure to get Marty on board of the train.

Just then, Marty reached out – and he managed to catch Doc's hand. The scientist felt himself blown backwards, and had the teenager fell over him. He really felt exhausted. "Argh!" Marty exclaimed, and Doc couldn't blame him. "Whoa! Whoa! Argh!" The two time travellers then got up, climbed up, and started to walk over the carriages towards the front. It sure was unstable, and Doc felt frightened. They could, of course, fall off. He sure didn't want something like that to happen to Marty – or to him, for that matter. He wanted to get back to the future, not get killed on a train.

"Wa-ha!" Doc called out, then he saw that Marty was having an even harder time. "Whoa!" the teen called out. "Hoo!" Doc exclaimed, and waited. "Come on, Marty!" He really wanted to get back to the future, now. After all, with Clara leaving him, there was nothing left in 1885 – so he just wanted to forget her and go home. But then, of course, they would have to take control of the train, first.

"Argh!" Marty then screamed, as they jumped onto another car. Doc then turned to him. "C'mon, let's go!" he urged. "Masks on." As they then reached the locomotive, the duo carefully climbed down, and after pulling down their masks, Doc pushed his gun into the cab.

"Is this a hold-up?" one of the two engineers asked, scared.

Doc glanced at Marty. "It's a science experiment!" he finally yelled. "Stop the train before you hit the switch track up ahead."

As the engineer obeyed to Doc's wishes, Marty got out of the train, and changed the direction the tracks were going. As he then finished, he called out: "Doc!"

The inventor didn't need any more information. "Uncouple the cars from the tender" he said to the engineers, satisfied as they did so. Doc got in the locomotive, and the train slowly started to move away, and Marty climbed onto it.

Doc pulled his mask off, as they moved away from the cars, and pulled the whistle. "I've wanted to do that my whole life!" he called out, happily. Marty laughed, as they moved closer towards the DeLorean. In the distance, Doc could see the time vehicle, and felt excited. They really were finally going back to the future, now. After eight months and six days, he would see 1985 again.

The inventor carefully manoeuvred the steam locomotive to stop right in front of the car. He jumped out towards the time machine, where he and Marty grabbed his 'Presto Logs'. They then walked over to the train.

"What are these things, anyway?" Marty asked.

Doc chuckled. "My own version of Presto Logs. Compressed wood with anthracite dust chemically treated to make the fire burn hotter and longer. I use them in my forge. These three will light the fire sequentially, make the fire burn hotter, kick up the boiler pressure and make the train go faster."

oooooooo

Clara Clayton felt confused for a moment, as she saw some wagons standing alone on the tracks. Then she realized – Emmett had to have taken them! He really was following that plan, now! Riding as fast as she could, she raced off the hill. If she missed Emmett now, he wouldn't be back until… 1985, wasn't it?

"Hiyah!" she called out to her horse. _Emmett, I'm coming… _

oooooooo

Marty McFly felt really excited, as the DeLorean started to move. The train just bumped onto the car, and with a slight funny feeling, the time machine started moving. "Ready to roll!" he called out, through his walkie-talkie.

oooooooo

Clara saw the train, and gasped. "Emmett!" she called out, racing down. Oh, why did this all have to go so hurried…

oooooooo

Marty McFly was just relaxing, as Doc called him. "Marty, are the time circuits on?"

Stupid – how could he forget. In a simple move, he turned the switch. "Check, Doc!"

"Input the Destination Time!" Doc called out. "October twenty-seventh, 1985, 11am!" Marty carefully did so, he then looked at the speed. "We're cruising at a steady 25 miles per hour Doc!"

"I'm throwing in the Presto Logs!" Doc called back. After a few seconds, he called back: "Marty, the new gauge will display the boiler temperature. The colour coding indicates when each log will fire. Green, yellow and red. Each detonation will be accompanied by a sudden burst of acceleration. Hopefully we'll get up to 88 miles per hour before the needle hits two thousand."

That didn't sound good. "Right, what happens when the needle hits two thousand?"

"The whole boiler explodes."

Marty dropped the walkie-talkie. "Perfect."

oooooooo

Clara Clayton felt weird, as she jumped off the horse and onto the train. This sure wasn't ladylike at all. She hoped that Emmett would appreciate what she was doing.

oooooooo

"Hey Doc!" Marty called out. "We just hit 35!" He felt nervous, as they were getting to move faster now. Not that he didn't trust Doc, but those Presto Logs sure sounded dangerous.

"OK, Marty, I'm coming aboard!" Doc called out. Marty waited, as Doc apparently climbed out. He waited, as his inventor friend moved forwards. He then looked at the speedometer. Why was it climbing so slow? "Come on," he muttered, "come on."

At that moment, he happened to look over to the gauge – and felt shocked. The green was almost on it's end! "You better hold onto something, Doc," he called out through the walkie-talkie, "the yellow log is about to blow!"

oooooooo

Clara was about to climb further, when a large explosion hit. "Aww!" she called out, landing on the blocks. "Golly." She realized that now, she really had to reach Emmett.

oooooooo

Marty felt worried, looking at the speedometer. "We just passed forty!" he called out, noticing the Present Time was just 8:18 am. _Whoa, that early? Time passes slow when you're in a time machine. _

He looked outside, and faintly thought he heard someone screaming "Emmett" but wrote it off as nothing. He concentrated on his friend, who was standing at the front of the train. "We just passed 45 Doc, go for it!" He realized that Doc had to be really scared. Then again, staying in the cab had been his idea.

The teenager looked at the speed again. "Fifty!" he called out, getting really anxious now. Within moments, they'd reach 88 mph and depart 1985… without Doc.

oooooooo

At that moment, the whistle blew. Marty and Doc exchanged confused looks, and the scientist looked around – only to see Clara Clayton standing in the doorway of the cab, screaming: "Emmett!"

"Clara!" Doc called out. This couldn't be true. He had to be dreaming.

But he wasn't. "I love you!" That was the last thing the inventor had expected to hear. Somehow, Clara had found out about the train, and realized he was telling the truth… and was willing to reconsider what she said the night before. His heart jumped with joy.

"Doc!" Marty called out, breaking the excitement. "Doc, what's happening!"

"It's Clara!" Doc called out. "She's on the train!"

"Clara!" Marty exclaimed. "Perfect!" Apparently, according to the teenager, the mission wasn't over yet…

oooooooo

Verne Brown felt rushed, as he rode through the 1880s desert. He just didn't know, how he was going to lose his persuaders. As he looked around, he saw the gang was still chasing him, and had almost caught up. He felt really worried about his life, now.

Suddenly, a sound was heard ahead. The teenager looked up – and opened his eyes wide. There was a small plane in the sky, 18 years before invented, with the colourful letters 'JEB' on it! The teen noticed that Jules was inside. Then, a rope was dropped, right onto Verne's head. The seventeen-year-old didn't care, though. He attached the rope to his belly, then felt himself being pulled up – and soon, he'd left his horse.

"Jules!" Verne screamed.

"Hold on Verne!" Jules screamed back. "Have you got the book?"

"It's in this bag!"

Jules nodded, and Verne waited, as they flew through the landscape. Suddenly, he heard a loud beep from up. He saw Jules' expression – worried. "Jules, what's going on?" he called out, through the walkie-talkie.

"The system is acting up!" Jules told him. "I guess the gas is up. We're going to crash-land. Brace yourself."

"Wha-"

Then, the airplane raced towards the ground. Verne narrowly missed some trees, and landed hard, being pulled through the sand hard as the airplane skidded to a halt. As he felt well enough to walk again, he ran over to Jules.

"Jules!" he called out. "What was that!"

"Nothing" his brother said. "Just forgot to fill up the gas. Nothing important. Let's go to the DeLorean, now. We survived, but the plane didn't."

Verne had to nod. "Come on, let's go to Shonash Ravine."

Jules then went pale. "Great Scott!" he exclaimed. "Shonash Ravine! At this point, Dad and Marty are pushing up the DeLorean… the time machine will go forward… the train will crash…" He turned to Verne, who realized what his brother was saying and finished Jules' line. "… crash right onto the time machine!"

"Let's go!" Jules screamed, as he started to run. Verne then followed his brother towards the ravine. If only they were on time… if not, both of the boys were going to have a serious panic attack.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Don't own BTTF I, BTTF II, BTTF III, BTTF IV, BTTF V... wait, the latter two don't exist. Well, I'll just not own any of them, to be safe. Better to be safe than apologize. (Get it? Apologize = sorry?)  
**

**Author's Note: **New chapter again. Final one of the 'canon' chapters. I hope you'll like it.

**9: Chapter Eight**

_September 7, 1885  
08:20 AM PDT_

Alternate Marty smiled, as he watched Doc and Marty Sr converse. Obviously, his grandfather wasn't happy with the way things were progressing.

"She's in the cab!" Doc called out, obviously talking about Clara. "I'm gonna go back for her!"

Marty Senior then looked out of the window – and Alternate Marty noticed that the windmill was there. He watched as both DeLorean and train chugged past it, off towards Eastwood… Clayton… Shonash Ravine. He wondered what his grandfather would do now.

Panic, of course. "The windmill!" Marty called out. "Doc, the windmill! We're going past 50, you'll never make it!"

"Then we'll have to take her back with us!" Doc called out. He clearly wasn't unhappy with this. "Keep calling out the speed!" He turned towards Clara. "Clara, climb out here to me!"

"I don't know if I can!" Clara shouted back.

"You can do it!" Doc encouraged her. "Just don't look down!"

Local Sarah watched on breathless, as Clara started to climb out of the cab. "Talk about one hell of a dare" she whispered. "I couldn't do that for Marty."

"Well, we live in the same century" Local Marty reminded her.

Local Sarah smiled. "That's true."

"That's it!" Doc called out, down below. He watched excitedly, and now started to climb back himself.

In the meanwhile, Marty watched the speedometer click up higher. "Sixty miles an hour Doc!" he called out.

Doc, however obviously scared by the amount of speed, concentrated on Clara. "You're doing fine!" he called out. "Nice and steady! Come on! Just a little further!"

"Seventy!" Marty Senior exclaimed.

"I can't believe they're actually doing this" Alternate Sarah whispered. "Poor Grandpa and Grandma, trying to climb along a train at 70 miles per hour! I can't think of something that is scarier than that!"

"Yeah, and the speed is already progressing" Local Marty said. "They're nearing 88."

Alternate Marty flew down with a grin, and sat down on the piece of train solid support the inventor and his wife-to-be were moving past. "Well, guys?" he asked, jokingly. "What do I look like in this picture?"

"Marty" Alternate Sarah said.

"I grew up with Griff Tannen for a stepfather" Alternate Marty pointed out, remaining to sit where he was. "I don't have much to be scared about. After all, he bul"

Marty Senior's loud cry cut through his line. "Doc! THE RED LOG IS ABOUT TO BLOW!!!!"

At that moment, the world ended.

A huge explosion, and the steam boiler was ripped apart and exploded in a red flash of light and a gigantic amount of noise. Alternate Marty was thrown backwards from the place he'd been standing, Doc lost his feet's grip and now hung on a metal barrel. He fought to regain his grip. But with Clara it was the worst of all. She was blown backwards, too, and almost fell off the train as her dress caught grip of something on the train, and she hung on it – starting to rip more with the second. The DeLorean was lifted up from the tracks by the train's immense power, and Marty, thrown backwards, watched amazed at the speed, which was climbing up to 75 miles per hour and went past it.

"Clara!" Doc screamed, terrified for her sake.

"Emmett!" Clara shouted back.

"Clara! Hold on!" Doc shouted.

"I can't!"

The DeLorean returned to normal position, and as the boiler almost exploded under the pressure, Marty realized he couldn't save Doc anymore to go back with him… but he had one other thing he could use.

"Doc, I'm gonna slip you the hoverboard!" he yelled. Doc just had time to nod as Marty held the flying board outside.

"Marty!" Doc screamed, noticing the 'End of Track ¼ miles' sign. "Watch out!" With a loud yell, Marty Sr ducked into the cab just in time to pass the sign unharmed – however the sign itself didn't survive, the time machine at… let's see… 80 miles per hour smashing through it.

"This is heavy" Local Marty groaned, not getting his eye off his teenage ancestor.

Marty Senior then looked at the speed, which said 82. It was now or never. He watched, as Doc, trying to help Clara, almost lost grip on one hand, then recovered. "Emmett, help!" Clara screamed. "Hold on Clara!" Doc screamed. "Whoa!"

"Doc, catch it!" Marty Senior called out. Doc then nodded, and the teenager released the hoverboard. He watched in amazement, as the board flew past the DeLorean and part of the train, and Doc caught onto it. "Yes!" Marty called out, as Doc called: "Whoa!" "Yes!"

"Emmett!" Clara screamed.

"Hold on!" Doc screamed, moving closer. It was just a matter of seconds now…

Then, the piece of cloth that was attached to the huge train ripped apart and the school teacher fell, facing certain death. Suddenly, a hand appeared underneath it, and Doc, having arrived just in time, pushed her back up. "Whoa!" He then took her in his arms, and hoverboarded away from the time machine.

"Yes!" Marty called out loud. He then looked at the speedometer – 84. Time to go. He closed the DeLorean door, and waited as the speed climbed up to 85… 86… 87… 88…

In the sky, the teenage visitors watched in disbelief as the DeLorean vanished in a bright flash of white light, just before it hit the 'End of Track' sign. The fire trails that it released ran along the tracks up until the end and about two feet further, before disappearing into nothingness.

The train then broke through the sign with a burst of energy, and started to fall down. Chugging and breaking some things in the last moments, the machine fell onto the tracks, hissing loudly. The mind travellers looked on in disbelief as it crashed with firework coming off it. Then, they saw where it landed – right on the front of the parked DeLorean.

oooooooo

Jules and Verne watched in disbelief, as the wagon's remains hit the DeLorean. It was really weird to see how an event from the past meant the end, now. Not that anybody really cared for that, but it was still strange.

"Well, that's it" Verne said, sadly. "We're trapped now. We can't attempt to go home in a car that is in that kind of state."

"Don't be so pessimistic, sibling" Jules said. "We'll simply get someone to fix it."

"Who, the horse dealer?" Verne said, sarcastically. "Cars won't be invented for about a decade, Jules."

"I know" Jules said. "And that's why there's only one person that can help us, now."

"You don't mean…"

"Yes, I do. Come on, let's go before we miss them." Jules ran off, and Verne followed, shaking his head. He had a bad feeling about all of this.

oooooooo

Clara Clayton gasped, as she looked at the tracks. She couldn't believe what had just happened. She'd been certain to die, and was preparing for death, when Emmett had shown up with a pink board that _flew_, and saved her. Her legs were still shaking, and now Emmett gently put her down. Clara felt happy, as she finally had solid ground under her feet again.

"Are you all right?" Emmett asked, concerned. "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, it had to be as quick as possible and this was the only way…"

"I'm fine" Clara assured him. "Really, I'm all right. I'm okay." She looked at the place the carriage in front of the train had just exploded… no, vanished in a flash of light, taking Clint Eastwood with it. "I guess you aren't, though. Your friend is gone forever… to 1985, I guess, from what you said last night?"

"That's right" Doc nodded. "Good memory. Yeah, I don't suppose that I will soon see him again. He's gone into 1985 – and in about a quarter from 11am, his Destination Time, a train will smash through the time machine. I just hope he's gotten out by then. I guess so, but you never really know." He shivered. "I don't want to have killed Marty…"

"Marty?"

Doc smiled. "Sorry, Clint. Marty is his real name though. Marty McFly. He couldn't use it because Seamus and Maggie McFly would get suspicious, then. They're his great-great-grandparents." He stared in front of him. "I wonder what will happen to him, now. I'm trapped in 1885, and if the time machine will be destroyed as I planned, he'll be trapped in 1985… a hundred years difference." He sighed. "I owe him a lot, Clara. If he had decided to obey my wishes and go home from 1955 to destroy the machine, I'd be shot by Buford Tannen right now, and according to what Tannen himself said, I'd be dying and would eventually die this evening, around suppertime."

Clara recalled what Buford had said. "But… Emmett, why did you plan to destroy the time machine?" she asked. "It sounds fascinating to travel through time. I mean, you don't get to travel through time every day. It sure is special. Very special."

"I know, Clara" Doc nodded. "But someone we knew had stolen the time machine once, in the year 2015," he saw Clara gasp at that, "and I didn't want that to happen again." He smiled and turned closer to Clara. "But then again, that whole adventure caused me to meet you…" He leaned over to kiss her.

"Da-Do-Mr. Brown! Mr. Brown!"

Clara felt Emmett move away, as she saw two boys approaching him. "You have to help us!" the older one called out.

Emmett took one good look at them, and freaked out. No wonder – they looked just like him, but then a couple of decades younger! "Argh!" Emmett screamed. "Argh! You're me, from the late 1930s! _Two _of me from the late 1930s! You can't be, I hadn't invented time travel back then!"

"Relax, Dad!" one of the boys called out. "We're not you, we're your sons!"

"Sons?" Emmett asked. "I don't have any sons."

"In the future, you do!" The older boy grabbed a wallet, and took a coloured picture out of it. In the middle, the two boys were standing, looking a lot younger – barely recognisable. But on the side, it was definitely the two of them! The picture read: "Emmett, Clara, Jules and Verne Brown, September 4th, 1892." Clara felt like fainting.

And as she looked to her side, and found nothing, she saw that Emmett was doing just that. With a soft "Great Scott" he fell onto the hoverboard. Clara just managed to catch his arm before he'd break his head. "This is golly" she whispered.

"We know, Mom."

"Mom!" Clara shrieked. "I'm a teacher, I'm just thirty, I can't be the mother of two teenage boys!"

"You have some years to go, namely twe-" the younger boy – Verne, right? – said, but then his brother cut him off. "Don't tell her! No one should know too much about their destiny. That's what Pop always says."

"Yeah, right" Verne said, rolling his eyes. "We're here, and Dad will have to know. He'll see the Last Time Departed when fixing the time machine, Jules."

"Time machine?" Clara asked. "Are you in a time machine? Then Emmett can go home!"

"Relax, Ma" Jules said. "You can't go home, unfortunately, as you never did originally. I'm sorry, and it's really complex, but I'll explain as soon as we're at the school teacher cabin."

"Jules!" Verne then called out. "Horses!"

Jules looked up, as he saw horses nearing indeed. "You're right" he said. "Marshall Strickland is out to investigate. I guessed that. Well, Mom, I guess you'll have to wait a little while for your questions."

Clara nodded, as she looked at the horses nearing. She was quite curious, though, to find out. Then again, that could wait.


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own the most amazing movie trilogy ever made. **

**Author's Note: **New chapter, finally at a reasonable amount of words. Hope you all enjoy.

**10: Chapter Nine**

_September 7, 1885  
08:30 AM PDT_

Alternate Sarah watched along with the other mind time travellers, as Marshall Strickland caught up with the others, down below. She was really curious how this was going to turn out.

"Marshall!" Clara exclaimed, as Strickland arrived. "Um, I, um…"

"Miss Clayton was just kidnapped by the train robbers" Jules said. "They tried to get away with the train, but Mr. Eastwood and Mr. Brown fought hard. Then, I and me brother here came along, and we tried to help. Finally, we managed to get off the train." He kicked the hoverboard out of sight with his left foot. "Miss Clayton got off the train easily, with our help. Mr. Brown hit his head on the fall, and was knocked out. The robbers then raced out of there, along with Mr. Eastwood, who was trying to defend himself from them. But neither of them knew this spur would run dead, so they crashed the train into Eastw…Shonash Ravine."

"Really?" Marshall Strickland said, not wiping a tear. "That sounds sad. Especially considering that he beat Buford Tannen up, this morning."

"It is" Clara nodded. "Emmett and Clint were good friends. I'm certain that he'll miss him."

Marshall Strickland looked around. "Well, I guess that I should ask you four to come back to the marshall's office this evening, at 7 PM – I'm certain that Emmett will be awake by then. Too bad that the robbers are gone – I could've taught them quite some discipline if they were still here. Discipline is the key to our problems."

"Yes, sir, Marshall Strickland" Clara nodded.

"Good" Strickland said. "All right men, let's go! I got Buford Tannen to bring to justice!" He and the others rode back into town, Clara and the boys looking after them.

"Well, I guess that we should go now, too" Jules said. "Come on, Verne, Mom, let's carry Father towards the cabin. We really do want him to survive. Not only is he of vital importance to repair the time vehicle – he's also necessary for us to live. If father doesn't survive this incident, or comes out of it with nasty repercussions that could affect what happens in about three months…" He gulped. "I'll be history."

"Now who is telling too much about the future?" Verne stated.

Jules frowned. "Come on, brother. Mom, let's carry Dad towards the cabin."

"I came on horse" Clara remembered. "It should be out here somewhere. I can call it, and then the horse can carry Emmett. If I remember well, it was the horse that Clint was riding – as he'd parked it at the shop."

"Then it's one of Dad's horses" Verne said. "And I know the way to call it." He stood on the tracks. "Galileo! Archimedes! Newton! Here!" Clara smiled amused at the names.

After a few seconds, a brown horse came walking onto them. "That's him" Clara said, happily.

"I believe it's Archimedes" Verne said. "Yeah, it's Archimedes. C'mon, Archie. Carry your master." He walked closer to the horse, but the animal gave him a kick in the stomach with his left behind foot. "Aw!" Verne called out. "You were always so nice to me at home, before you died!"

"That was Archie's future self, Verne" Jules said. "This one hasn't met you as father's son, yet. Therefore, he has no reason to trust you – or even know you. I guess that only the presence of Dad will calm him down. Mo-Clara, you try – you have more experience with horses." He chuckled. "It feels funny to call you Clara, you know."

"It feels weird that you called me Mom" Clara pointed out. "I prefer just 'Clara'. It makes me not have to think about the weirdness of all this all the time."

"Good point, Mo-uh-Clara" Verne said. "Now, go ahead – try to calm Archimedes down. I hope it works, because I don't want to have to carry Dad _and _pull Archie along all the way!"

Clara walked up to the horse, and stroked it's back. "Nice horse. Nice horse." She smiled gently. "Nice horse."

Archimedes frowned a bit, then allowed his master to be pulled onto him. Verne groaned. "I can't believe he does listen to you but not to me!" he exclaimed. "Aren't horses supposed to, as animals, have an instinct which tells them not to trust someone?"

"Maybe you weren't to trust" Jules quipped, before he could stop himself.

"Jules!" Verne looked ready to give his brother a punch.

"Boys, boys, calm down" Clara said, sighing. "We're going to need all the help we can get to carry poor Emmett back to the cabin. If he wasn't knocked out, it would've been much easier." She snatched a bit of grass from the ground, and held it in front of the horse, walking forward. "Easy, easy, Archimedes. Easy."

While Jules reminded to get the hoverboard and Verne carried the bag with the history book inside with him, the three slowly walked towards the school teacher cabin. Verne groaned – this was probably going to take quite some time. Even while the bully in question was in jail, the mere thought that the history book was still intact didn't fit well with him. If Buford broke out and tried to get the book back from him… Tannen had seen his face, or else he wouldn't have called for his men. And however Verne had watched the gang being arrested while hanging off the airplane, he couldn't help but wonder… what would happen, now?

oooooooo

Seamus McFly smiled happily, as he was on his way back to the farm. He wondered what Maggie would say, when she heard where he'd gone. After all, she didn't like him going to the saloon that early – or coming there at all. His wife was usually very strict, but, well, he could always tell her that he'd went to see the young Eastwood fellow.

The farmer silently hummed a tune, as he thought about Clint. The young man sure had showed an act of bravery today. And even if it wasn't quite what Seamus inspired him to, it still had ended up fine. He now hoped that Clint would have a nice future in front of him.

He then blinked, as he could see the farm in the distance. He was looking forward to see Maggie again, and wondered what his wife would think of young Clint's adventures. He mentally wished Clint and the blacksmith good luck with what they were going to do. He was confused about one thing, though. He remembered that, when the blacksmith had been about to get shot, he'd called out "Don't worry about me Marty but save yourself!" Wasn't that supposed to be 'Don't worry about me _Clint_? The only other 'Marty' Seamus knew was his brother, Martin, but the poor guy had been stabbed with a bowie knife in Virginia City, almost three years ago now. There weren't any other Martin's in Hill Valley.

Silently looking around, he moved closer to his horse. "Come on boy" he whispered. "Just a few more moments, and then we'll be back at Maggie's. Aye." He smiled, looking around happily. Today sure was a day to remember.

oooooooo

Old Buford Tannen groaned, as he'd reached the DeLorean time machine. He'd never known that it was so exhausting to walk all the way through Hill Valley and back to the lake – most likely since the last time he'd done just that was almost twenty years ago… or over thirty years in the future? Never mind. Anyway, he was tired.

Pushing the DeLorean gull-wing door open with his cane, he managed to crawl inside and sit on the seat. He sighed deeply, as he realized how old and tired he was. He really should go back to the year 1935, soon.

The bully then faintly smiled, as he'd had a good day, after all. He'd visited the future year 1985, and he'd managed to give himself the history book. He was sure that the Clint Eastwood incident should've happened by now. His younger self should be in jail. He just hoped that Younger Buford would realize his older self's words were true – and keep the history book. If he did, he was certain that he would manage to get a lot of money with it.

He grinned evilly, as he thought of what he'd be like if he'd be rich. He would certainly get a lot of pretty ladies to entertain him, and let them all work for him. He'd get girls as many as he wanted, as he was rich. He dreamed of somehow turning the town of Hill Valley into the trash it really was, and rebuild it as a gigantic gamble-empire. He remembered how his son, Driff, owned illegal alcohol in the 20s. He wondered if his younger self would manage that, too. Maybe he'd even get the stupid Prohibition law ignored before it's time – or maybe it wouldn't even happen at all.

As he started the motor, Buford checked the time circuits. DEC 23 1935 12:46 PM was still the Destination Time, and he decided to keep it that way. As he managed to turn the hover-circuits on, he sat back and relaxed from the long walk. He then pulled down the gas.

Buford sighed in exhaustion, as the car shot through the cloudy sky backwards towards Hill Valley and the place he'd departed. As he almost was there, he landed diagonally downwards, while still accelerating. The fall made his speed go higher, and about 40 feet from the ground the temporal displacement kicked in. Twin trails of fire shot through the sky as Buford Tannen left the year 1885.


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own the movies this story was made of. **

**Author's Note: **My new chapter. It's a little shorter than usual to make up for the long chapters in the beginning and too because I didn't really know what to write further for this chapter. Two chapters to go. Yes!

**11: Chapter Ten**

_September 7, 1885  
__09:00 AM PDT_

Local Sarah smiled, as she and the others were hanging above the school teacher's cabin. Clara, Jules and Verne had just arrived, and Jules and Verne were now pulling Doc off Archimedes, who finally had calmed down, while Clara herself opened the door and after that rushed back towards Doc, and helped Jules and Verne carry him. She was proud of her grandmother – apparently, Clara was able to carry Grandpa Emmett really well.

"I guess Gramps is really heavy" Alternate Sarah said, looking down at her grandfather. "He really looks like quite some pressure on Dad and Uncle Jules' shoulders." She flew inside, and watched as Jules and Verne gently put Doc down on the bench. "Well, I guess they're ready, now."

They were. Verne sat down on the only other chair in the room, sighing. "Well, when will Dad wake up?" he asked.

Clara appeared around the corner a moment later, having gotten some chairs from the kitchen for Jules and herself. "I'm not sure" she admitted. "I mean, you two scared him quite a bit. I could barely keep myself awake, let alone help Emmett with that."

"Sorry" Verne said, smiling apologetically.

Clara smiled back. "It's all right. Although you really do have some stories to tell. You're mine and Emmett's children – where are you from? When are you from? And why are you two talking to me and Emmett if… Jules… said it wasn't allowed for me to know too much about the future?"

"That's a long story" Jules said, just returning from the outhouse. "And well, I'm not sure where we should start. I think we can better summary only the things that helped us end up here, since I'm not sure what you… and Dad… would do if you'd know every little detail of what will happen up until our present, December twenty-third of 1905 A.D., something around the late evening, Hill Valley, California."

"Well, just start there then" Clara said, a little uncomfortable.

Jules nodded. "All right. As I said, it was 23 December, two days before Christmas, and however we had something for you, we hadn't got anything for Dad yet. Having explored many shops and having come up with nothing, we decided going to the future was some good plan. So, at night we hijacked… borrowed the DeLorean, with your permission, and headed ahead towards 1935."

"DeLorean" Clara whispered. "Nineteen-thirty-five."

"I know, it's fifty years in the future" Jules nodded. "Anyway, we made the transit easy, and within seconds we were flying over the town at 7am in the morning of the same date, but 30 years later. We landed on the outskirts of town, which was closer than we expected, and headed uptown to check some shops. We couldn't find anything anywhere, and finally, we headed into a bar to get a drink or something like that."

"Only to find our Dad there" Verne said, shivering as he remembered it.

"Emmett?" Clara asked. "You mean he's still alive?"

"No, not really" Jules said, smiling. "Well – we don't know. You see, you know your boyfriend is from 1985?" Clara nodded. "Well, this was the younger version of him. Our father, Emmett Brown from 1935, at age fifteen."

"Whoa" Clara whispered. "Golly. Really golly."

"Anyway," Jules continued, "we saw our father, but also immediately encountered a few bullies who were teasing him in a mean way. Verne couldn't take it, and to be honest, my temper rose as well, and he interfered. We managed to make a get-away after the bullies' attention was for us instead, and we met up with father… Emmett… later on. Unfortunately, at that time, Buford Tannen had seen us. He somehow put two and two together… realized who we were, seeing as that our current selves should be much older. Us talking about time travel might've helped, too. However, we headed towards Emmett's home, at around 12, and Buford headed off to search for the time machine. And, eventually, he found it."

Clara went pale. "Buford Tannen travelled through time?"

"Not yet, not yet" Jules said. "Anyway, we were back at the DeLorean at around 12:45 or 12:50 PM. I thought I saw something stumbling off, and as we flew up and accelerated through the sky, Verne thought he saw weird things in the city down below. Then, we hit 88, and arrived in Hill Valley – or something we thought of as being Hill Valley. In reality, it was Hell Valley."

"Hell Valley?" Clara asked, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

"Exactly" Jules nodded. "That's how we called it. Anyway, we touched down at our house, and we could see that it was abandoned. We got in, and a bum appeared to live inside. Obviously, we were shocked. We walked through town, and we saw bums and dead people on the street. The Courthouse was Buford's Strip Paradise. He'd married you, and killed Daddy."

Clara gasped. "I married Buford?"

"Under force, I guess" Jules said. "I can understand you'd never marry Tannen willingly. However, we headed towards Tannen's office and found out the day he altered time, by giving himself a history book from the future. That was today. We headed back here, and, after an exhausting morning…" He popped a brown book out of Verne's bag. "See what we got here?"

Clara looked at it. "A History of Hill Valley, 1850-1930" she read. "Wow. Golly. I can't believe that you're actually from the future. I just met Emmett three days ago… and now we're thinking about children already!" She smiled faintly. "I guess I have a lot of catching up to do."

"Especially when you start time travelling more regulary" Jules said. "Father and you have taken time travel trips ever since the machine was completed, which has been a few years from where we come from."

The school teacher looked confused. "You mean he didn't move back?"

"No" Verne said. "After all, it had been a few years from 1885 when the time machine was finally completed, and our father didn't think that it would be easy to go back and see Marty again now, since we were already born. He couldn't leave without kids and return with two of them. It was a painful decision, but he really liked the 1890s, and he didn't think that you could leave our time, either."

"You're right" Clara nodded. "Well, I think we should now go prepare, for when Emmett wakes up. I wonder what to tell him. We can't exactly lie to him… but I don't want him to go into an even bigger shock, than he's just experienced. Well, I guess the fact that he's just waking up from a faint should help." She sighed. "Well, anyone care for a cup of tea?"

Jules smirked. "All right" he said. "With some sugar, please. If you got it."

"Me too" Verne nodded. "However I prefer Pepsi."

Clara frowned. "What's Pepsi?"

"Um… let's just say you'll find out."

The thirty-year-old smiled, and headed off to put the kettle on the fire. As Clara was doing just that, Verne sat down next to his father, who was breathing steadily and slowly. He sure hoped that his father would wake up soon. However sleep was good for someone, and he didn't immediately want to expect the worst, well, he sure hoped that his father wouldn't be asleep for too long. It did quite worry him. He then looked at the clock, and saw that it was nine-twenty. Well, it sure felt a lot later, with all the experiences he'd gone through in the past day… or should that be days? He just wanted to be back in 1905. He guessed that they would have to get the DeLorean from the ravine for that, though. So it was just a matter of Dad waking up, and then they could go to Shonash Ravine.


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own the movies... unless you mean the DVD's. **

**Author's Note:** The one-before-last chapter. Just one down to go.

**12: Chapter Eleven**

_September 7, 1885  
__10:00 AM PDT_

Emmett Brown blinked, as he felt strange. He'd just slept quite a while – and for some reason, felt like really weird things were going on. He decided just to write it off as being nothing, though.

For some reason, he had dreamed like Marty had shown up, from 1955 – and told him he had gotten shot by Buford Tannen. They then had tried to go back to the future, but Marty's DeLorean was out of gas. He had also met a woman named Clara Clayton, who was really beautiful – and had also liked him. At that point, it had to be a dream – since women never really talked to him, or let alone liked him! At the end, he remembered pushing the DeLorean up to 88 with a steam train, then almost falling off as Clara had come after him, and then the hoverboard saving Clara and him. After that, he could not remember anything. Such a strange dream.

As he looked around, he saw someone was in his bedroom. A female, obviously. That could only mean one thing… "Mrs. McFly?" he yawned. "Is that you?"

"Just relax now," the woman said. "You've been asleep for over an hour and a half, now."

Doc now remembered how, after he'd seen Marty go back to the future, he'd encountered boys looking just like a teenage him saying they were his sons. How odd. "I-I had a weird dream, it was terrible" he said. "Dreamt that… I was on a train… and I was falling off… and there was this beautiful woman named Clara… she was also falling… it was horrible."

The woman giggled, for a reason Doc didn't care. "Well, you're safe and sound now, back in the good old school teacher's cabin."

Doc screamed, as he sat up. "School teacher's cabin? Argh!" He stared at the woman in front of him, and found she matched his dreams. "You're… you're…"

"I'm Clara, Emmett" the woman said. "Clara Clayton, remember? You fainted when your sons, Jules and Verne, came visit from the future." She smiled. "Our sons."

Doc sighed deeply, his eyes opened wide. "Then it's true?" he asked. "We really got visited by our future sons? I can't believe it! I mean, kids… I'm sixty-six years old! I never expected to have kids anymore!"

"If what you tell us in the future is correct," a brown haired teenage boy said, entering the room, "you weren't expecting to be married… fall in love, either." He extended his hand. "Please to meet you, father. Jules Brown, your oldest son."

The inventor stared at the boy in front of him. With short brown hair, the teenager who claimed to be his child looked more like Clara. But the face looked familiar, and even had the slightly insane look on it. In his pants' pockets, Doc noticed a miniature version of 'Twenty-Thousand Miles Under The Sea'. He stared towards his beloved and back. Really, except for the hair, it was like he was looking in a mirror.

His eyes went even wider when he saw a second teenage boy come in. By this one there was no doubt. However the look on his face seemed saner than by the other one, his hair was blonde, starting to go white, and his physical build was exactly like Doc remembered himself being in pictures from himself in the late 1930s. There wasn't doubt – the story was true.

"Great Scott" the inventor whispered. "This is… heavy. I wonder what Marty would say about it." He looked at Clara, then back at the boys. "Where are they from? I mean, when are they from?"

The school teacher stared at the teenagers. "1905" Jules finally said. "As in nineteen-hundred-and-five, yes. We're here because we went to buy a Christmas present for you in 1935 that accidentally caused us to interfere with your younger self and set up a chain reaction of events…" He sighed, obviously having gone through a lot of adventures. "Are you okay with 'it's a long story' for now?"

"I guess that I'm all right with that" Doc nodded. He stepped off the bed. "Great Scott – kids. I never ever honestly expected to have children. I wasn't meant to have children, apparently. I'd lived my entire life as a bachelor up until 65, retirement age, and I never expected to have them, not even after I had been rejuvenated in 2015. Kids were something for younger people who were in the middle of their lives and happy and had wives and husbands…" His voice started to contain a tinge of sadness. "But not for me."

"Well, here we are now" Jules pointed out. "Alive and well – your children." He sighed. "Although we almost could've been Buford Tannen's kids if something would've gone wrong…"

Doc frowned. "What the…" He was silenced by a disgusted look from the boy on the right… Verne, wasn't it? "I guess I don't want to know."

"Good decision, Dad" Jules smiled. "Now, why don't we get out of the mansion, now? We got a car to hide. The DeLorean… yes, father, I said DeLorean… is hidden down at Eastw…Shonash Ravine." He saw Doc frowned at the slip of Eastwood Ravine. "We hid it on the wrong place, because the train that you guys so happily threw in the ravine ended up damaging the time machine." He sighed, and stared at Verne. "Really, why do we keep running into things like this?"

"I wouldn't know, bro" Verne said, shrugging. "I guess fate isn't too kind to us."

"Anyway," Doc said, "let's get going. If I understand you well… we've got a time machine to hide."

oooooooo

Buford Tannen sighed, as he looked at his surroundings. Here he was – Hill Valley Jail. He'd lost everything today, in just a matter of hours. His freedom, his power over Hill Valley, his last chance to kill that Eastwood runt… and even his history book. He growled. Why couldn't those buttheads be more careful in getting that stupid book back? Now they were caught, and in prison, as well. Well, at least here he could beat them up.

The outlaw started to wonder what to do, now. He'd be in this stupid prison for a few years, at least, and didn't expect to get out until 1890. He could try to escape, but then? Nobody would even look at him anymore. After that bug Eastwood beat him, everyone could. He growled in anger, wondering where Eastwood had gone.

The butt-head was probably celebrating his win with the blacksmith, that no-good cheating Brown runt. He hissed in anger. He should've killed them when he had the chance, back at the Festival. If he had been more secure not to be seen by Marshall Strickland – he wasn't at the entrance all the time, after all – or had created a distraction, he could've easily hold some more of the guns, and shot Eastwood and Brown to death.

"Why" he whispered. "Why did this happen to me! It was perfect! I could kill Eastwood! I really could! It was just something I did before breakfast… I wasn't supposed to lose!" He sighed. Oh great, now he was talking to himself. One of the first signs of insanity.

The outlaw looked at the long iron bars that kept him out of the outside world. It would be easy. He'd just grab his knife, and then he could cut the bars. So it had gone every time, so it would go now again. He reached down…

… only to find nothing. Buford frowned, confused, searched all his pockets… and then, he remembered.

Back at the festival, he'd left the weapon at the entrance in order to get in. And at the end, he was so pissed off on Eastwood and about how he'd gotten another line wrong, that he'd left without even thinking about his guns and knife. That meant, right now, that he didn't have a weapon. His men hadn't, either. His guns were taken away from him, his knife still at the festival, most likely being held by the cops… it was a lost case. He would be trapped all his years, this time.

And for what had to be about the first time in his life, Buford 'Mad Dog' Tannen, the murderer of many people in Hill Valley and outside it, burst out in tears, and started to cry.

oooooooo

Alternate Marty looked down, and saw that Doc, Clara and Verne were down below with some kind of self-made crane that Doc had obviously constructed. They were apparently pulling up something. As Marty looked down the sides of the ravine, he saw Jules sitting inside the DeLorean, which was being towed up with the crane. Alternate Marty smiled – this was typical Doc and Jules.

"One, two" Doc counted. "Three!" He then pulled the handle of the crane with all his strength, and with happiness, he saw that Jules got pulled over the side. Everyone cheered. "Way to go Dad!" Jules complimented.

"Thanks Jules!" Doc said. "Is that for what I did now, or for the machine I'd apparently constructed… or will construct, in the early twentieth Century." He whistled. "You know, I'm wondering what I'll all be doing then."

"A lot" Jules commented. "Twenty years is quite a lot of time, you know. You did a lot of things over the times. Marrying Mom, getting us, building the train and travelling all through time…" He smiled. "Well, let's go back, now. We got a lot of things to do in front of us."

"And that's true" Local Marty smirked, as he looked down below. "It really is strange, how we're watching all of this. I wonder if, someday, we could revisit this day – and see more things. We really had just five hours. That is not much time, you know."

"Well, we did see a lot of things happening" Local Sarah said. "It was so exciting to see how Grandpa and Grandma met up again. And how Marty McFly Senior headed back to the future. It's strange how a lot of today's music wouldn't have existed if Grandpa Marty would've stayed in the Old West."

"I guess that Grandpa really inspired the hover-conversion, and Mr. Fusion" Alternate Sarah said. "It's a good thing that Marty Senior really told the inventors of our country about hover-technology, which he'd discovered in Doc's papers, or else the whole idea wouldn't have existed. It is strange to imagine 2046 without flying cars." She flew down to the DeLorean, vanished inside, and then flew out through the other side again. "Speaking of 2046, it's about time to go back. It is 10:59 AM, now."

Alternate Marty winced, as he actually would have to go back to the future. He was about to say something about what all he'd experienced, when he saw the surroundings shimmering, and then fading. As everything went black before his eyes, he realized that he was being pulled through decades back to the year 2046. He really wasn't in 1885 anymore, now.


	13. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Back to the Future, Back to the Future Part II, Back to the Future Part III, Back to the Future The Ride, Back to the Future The Animated Series, Kristen Sheley's Fanfictions, Mary Jean Holmes' FanFictions, Flaming Trails' fanfictions, Blind Spot's fanfictions and, last but not least, Bttf 4444's fanfictions.  
**

**Author's Note: **Final chapter of my story. Hurray! Now, at day 14, I can finally focus on TJP Part II... well, anyway, please read.

**13: Epilogue**

_September 7, 2046  
11:00 PM PDT_

"Marty?" a familiar voice sounded. "Wake up, Marty. You're here, now, safe and sound, back in the year 2046. I guess the shock put you out of it for a moment, but you really should be back now. Why don't you try to focus on my voice, as you slowly open your eyes – and allow your senses to go back to those of 2040s life."

The teenager blinked, as he stared into his grandfather's eyes. "Grandpa Marty Senior!" he called out, sitting up and hugging his grandfather. "It's so good to see you again – at the normal age!" He felt close to his grandfather, even though they didn't start hanging around together up until a year ago in the Griff-horrific universe. Alternate Marty really felt happy, now he saw his grandfather again at 77, instead of 17. This really was a lot more familiar. He smiled, as he hugged his grandpa tightly.

"It sure is nice to see you, too" Marty Senior smiled, hugging back his grandson. "I have been here for five hours, sitting and staring at your unconscious bodies, wondering madly if everything had gone fine… I wouldn't want an invention of Doc's causing the end of your lives. You were practically the only one who I hoped to get help from, in those hard years in the institute. But when Griff stopped allowing you to visit me, in January 2035…" He gulped. "Well, let's just say that the decade what followed was the hardest in my life."

"I guess so" Alternate Marty nodded. "It sure sounds terrible, how Griff treated you. I mean – I was treated badly, too, but at least I had some freedom. You, on the other hand, stayed in the same building for all those years. How long have you been there, exactly?"

"11 years, 10 months and 2 days" Marty Senior said, growling. "I can't believe that Griff was so less respectful to me that he decided to lock me up at Christmas Eve, 2033! I still remember how anxious I was to return home, as I was dragged away. But even if I'd stayed relaxed, they would've treated me horribly. One of the attendants was Needles himself. He hit me on the head, kicked me and…" He stared at Alternate Marty. "You know what kind of plants roses grow on?" Alternate Marty nodded. "Well, with that they hurt every single place on my back. They kept torturing me until I collapsed from pain and exhaustion. Then, they put me in a straight-jacket and drove me off towards the asylum." He growled in anger. "You know, if it didn't cause a paradox, I'd be tempted to kill Griff sometimes. They way he abused me was really horrible. Sometimes I have nightmares, of my days in the institute."

"It sounds horrifying" Alternate Marty said. "I guess that, compared to you, I had a happy life after all."

"You bet" Marty Senior said, obviously feeling like throwing up. "Sometimes, I wished that Doc never invented time travel. Then again, it had given me new memories of a happy youth, and a happy life up until the 2020s… and after my break-out, I decided I wouldn't have wanted to miss it. It was just too great that time travel was actually possible like that… and besides, I got to see Doc again." He smiled in delight. "I actually got to see Doc again. I never thought that was possible until I actually built the time machine myself."

"Well, thanks" Doc said, walking into the room. "Now that you all are back – how was it? Has the past been fun? It certainly sounds like it has. I do have to expand on my mind travel machine a bit, to make you actually able to stay longer, and go deeper into the past. It's now just limited to 1800 and beyond. But don't worry – that won't take any more than a few weeks, a month, tops. I should be able to get it done really soon."

"Good" Local Marty said, smiling. "That sounds about right. I guess we have to wait a while, then… but in the end, it'll be all worth it."

"I guessed the same" Doc said. "I sure hope that I will be able to finish the machine quick. I'd be able to do many things in the sixty years I have been away – and even though I spent quite much time building inventions in the late 1800s and early 1900s, it just isn't the same, you know? Up here, I have much more technology at my disposal, and I can do much more things. I'm even thinking of a dimension travel machine."

"I remember how we got visited by some people from another dimension," Marty Senior said, "back in 1988. They were hopping through dimensions, and didn't have a way to get home. It was really amazing how, in that world, you did move back, back in 1894… or was it 1895? Anyway. You were also visiting yourself, from 1906… and you were sad how it was far too late to move back, to your opinion."

"Yeah, I guess moving at a later time – to 2006, I mean – must not have occurred to me, back then" Doc said. "And just moving like the other me had done was pretty much impossible. I mean, Jules was _twenty _when that visit happened, and Verne eighteen! That would mean that they'd be supposed to be born in 1968 and 1970! There was no way I could've hid so much years of age from the townsfolk. I'm still wondering that the 'Jules and Verne being born in Sacramento in 1977 and 1979' thing worked for the other me. It sure must have been hard to get that accepted by everyone."

"Yeah, it sure must" Marty Senior said. He then suddenly heard footsteps on the hallway, and turned towards them. "What the hell?" he asked, frowning. Then, he saw the door open, and to his surprise, he saw a very familiar person step out… "Jennifer!"

The 77-year-old local version of Jennifer Jane Parker threw black her grey hair which now lacked any taint of brown, and smiled happily. "Hi, Marty" she said, as the person that could've been her husband ran up to her, hugged her and kissed her. "I heard Doctor Brown and you were throwing a party for another one of your inventions again, so I thought I'd come over to join the fun." She looked around. "You really keep focusing on inventing, don't you?"

"Well, I did that as a hobby in the early years of the 21st Century, to keep me connected to my old friend, seeing as I spent so many time touring as a rock star" Marty Senior said. "Even after I decided to stop, in 2008, with my rock star career completely, I still liked it. And since I don't have the money I gained from my music anymore – Local Marty has it, after all – and I don't feel like going on the road again or accepting your husband's money, I decided 'What the hell?'" He shrugged. "And it's become my life. Music is fun, but there really are more shades within science and inventing."

"Yeah, you're right" Jennifer said, looking around. "It's nice to see you again."

"You don't believe how nice it is to see you, Jen" Marty Senior said, kissing her again. "I know you're my other self's, but you do feel a lot like my wife." He sighed, almost crying. "She died in January 2033 because she couldn't take Junior's death ten months earlier, and then the nuclear waste GriffCo already exposed our air to…" He sighed. "Well, at least it was a short time. She went sick on January 1, and died less than two weeks later. Poor Jennifer…"

"I can understand your pain" Jennifer said. "Well, I can't, because I have never experienced something like that, but if Marty… my Marty… was to die, I'd sob, too. I can't see myself letting me die because of Junior's death, though. I love him, he's my son, but I would be rational and thinking that another death wouldn't help in solving the problems." She smiled. "Well, anyway – how have the kids been behaving, the past hours? Or should I say, the past 161 years?"

Marty Senior chuckled. "They've been just fine" he said, assuring his not-wife of that fact. "Why don't you tell your grandmother, Local Marty?"

"It sure was awesome and exciting" Local Marty said. "To see the clean air in 1885, to experience the culture… and of course, seeing our ancestors. I never realized how much of a job Grandpa Marty and Doctor Brown had in beating Buford Tannen up and getting the DeLorean up to 88. Granted, I'd heard the tales, but seeing it in real life is different, I can assure you."

"Oh, I'd be surprised if it wasn't" Marty Senior said. "You're right – the chase to get the DeLorean up to 88 sure gave us a hard time." He shot a disapproving smirk at Doc. "Therefore, I wasn't the one to suggest a similar plan when we were trapped in 1925 and had to get the train to work."

"It was a good plan!" Doc protested.

"Oh, sure!" Marty Senior shot back, still smiling. "Pushing the train off a hill… letting it drop to the ground… if the flying circuits were busted, why didn't you just fix them, or try to fix them? Five feet further to the ground at 88, and the flying circuits wouldn't have caught on in time to the electricity that was in the air in 2045, and we'd be dead meat as we'd crash to the ground!"

"It was kind of exciting" Doc said back.

Marty Senior rolled his eyes. "If that was excitement, I have had enough excitement of nine lifetimes in a row."

As everyone burst out in laughter, Marty Senior himself last, Alternate Marty reflected on their day. Maybe his grandfather's words were true, maybe they weren't. But whatever it be, he was certain that his excitement time wasn't over yet.

Oh no, it wasn't.

**THE END. **


End file.
